


Shining Sunshine

by melancholywhite



Series: Shining Sunshine [1]
Category: EXO (Band), SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - (Single) Parents, Babies, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-04-13 14:25:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 71,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14114289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholywhite/pseuds/melancholywhite
Summary: Retired dancer Kim Jongin, also known as Taemin's best friend since birth, is adopting a baby. Since he's such a loyal friend, of course Taemin ends up getting roped into raising the child with him. It sounds like an easy enough job at first, but when old feelings start to resurface, Taemin doesn't know anymore.





	1. Chapter 1

It's ten on a cold, winter morning. Daylight is starting to filter through the window panes, casting shadows onto the office floor; yet Taemin is paying no attention to it. Neither does he pay any attention to the employees outside his little corner office, filing in with greetings as they start their work day.

While everyone is just starting to clock in, Taemin has been sitting focused on the computer screen in front of him for three hours. Technically, he has absolutely no need to come in so early. He just has _so much_ to do. He's busy; there's nothing else he can say to describe his situation. There's the Spring program to finalize, the Fall program to conceptualize, and topping that off, he still has to revise the choreography he made for one of the Spring shows— so he's going to have to hit the studios after finishing paperwork.

Since seven in the morning, he has been stressing about how the program in his hand still doesn't feel right, but he only has three months to go until the start of the Spring season. The words written on paper, the rough choreography in his head _and_ in videos from other choreographers, the design sketches—nothing's matching up to his vision.

And it's not like the program can just _not_ match up. His creative vision is what this dance company is paying him for; if he can't make it come to life, then he's not doing his job properly. He's already getting enough flack for being the youngest artistic director in the company's history—he can't give the board of directors even _more_ excuses to tell him that he's 'too young to have the emotional maturity required to lead this _premier_ dance company to the peak of artistry.'

"Yah, Lee Taemin."

Taemin's little stress-out session is interrupted when his slightly ajar door is pushed open, and a figure clad in elaborate clothes as white as the snow outside walks in loudly without invitation. He doesn't even need to look up to know that it's Kibum—one of his closest friends since college, who also happens to be the board's _favorite_ marketing director.

"Good morning to you too, hyung. And no, I haven't posted on Instagram today—or last night. Too busy to upload rehearsal videos on my personal accounts."

Kibum rolls his eyes and closes the door behind him. "Okay… But that's not why I'm here for, you workaholic."

"Then what is it?" he stops staring at his computer screen, his eyes following his colleague's movements. Kibum sits on one of the chairs across from his desk, crossing his legs.

"I just… heard some things," Kibum says. Taemin tilts his head and waits, urging him to go on.

"It's about Jongin," the older man continues. His eyebrows quirk inwards in disbelief as he leans over, continuing in a hushed tone. "I heard he's having a _baby._ Is that true? _"_

Taemin blinks. That's certainly quite surprising. Not the fact that Jongin is having a baby; _that's_ not surprising. Jongin is his best friend since birth—and also the dancer he headlined this company with, his almost-permanent dance partner before their retirement two years ago—so he has known about it for a while now.

What surprised him is that _Kibum_ knows about it, because he and Jongin are not very close. Now that Jongin doesn't work with them anymore, they probably don't see each other; so how the news spread out so far as to reach his ears, Taemin has no idea. It certainly didn't come out of Taemin's zipped lips.

"How did _you_ know?"

"Definitely didn't get the news from you," Kibum snorts at his question, resting his elbows on the table. "What a nice guy, you are. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, it's not really my place to tell. It's _his_ baby, not mine," he scoffs and shakes his head, returning his attention to his laptop screen. He starts typing random words to pretend to look busy, despite being unable to focus—Kibum's probing of Jongin's whole baby situation isn't helping his already slightly stressed out mind. "Besides, why are you assuming I already knew about it?"

It's a useless question, because _everyone_ knows Taemin and Jongin are inseparable—they know everything about each other, and there's no reason he wouldn't know about this. Kibum doesn't even miss a beat before he barks out in laughter.

"Please. You're literally his _husband,_ why _wouldn't_ you know?"

The man opposite him shakes his head, amusement evident in his expression. Here it goes again. Kibum's 'jokes' about his very close _friendship_ with Jongin.

"I'm not. We're—"

"Just best friends, I know," Kibum cuts him off with a flick of his finger. "But only because he's _still_ too dumb to realize you've been in love with him since you guys were… I don't know, four years old? Come on."

Taemin sighs.

Sure, Kibum's right. Taemin _was_ in love with Jongin, at a certain point in his life; emphasis on the past tense. It was a long time ago, before _work_ consumed him to the bone. That was a time when his world only revolved around Jongin and dance, although _this_ friend of his still brings it up as a joke even now.

After a decade of getting teased for his feelings, it's not like Taemin's not used to the jokes. Normally he would just laugh it off, but with everything going on in his head, he's not exactly in the correct mood for that.

"Can we not keep talking about this, hyung? Please," he pleads. Slowly, he raises his head to meet Kibum's gaze. "I got over him _years_ ago. You know that."

Kibum looks him in the eye for a long second, before he rolls it away. The other man knows him all too well; he may not believe his words completely, even if it's true.

"Fine, I'll stop—but only because you asked so nicely," his friend sighs. "Since you don't want to talk about it, I'm going back to my office. You're not the only one with work to do."

Kibum gets up with a swift movement, walking back to the door after the quick conversation. Right before he steps out, though, he turns back.

"And don't forget to post on Instagram today!" he shouts, pointing at Taemin. "You haven't posted in two months—if you don't do it today, I swear I'll find someone to hack into your account."

Taemin rolls his eyes. "Fine. Prepare the caption for me."

"Good," Kibum huffs, then walks away with a wave.

The door closes behind his colleague's figure, and Taemin sighs again. Time to go back to stressing out.

-

Jongin's declaration came as sudden as lightning.

"I'm having a baby," the younger man announces, while cuddled under a blanket on Taemin's couch.

His best friend's mouth was full of chicken as he speaks, and _nothing_ can be more out of the blue than dropping important news with a mouth full of chicken, in the middle of their weekly dinner. Nothing.

"What." Taemin chokes on his water. "How— when— with _who—_ "

As per the tradition they've had since college, they're sitting in Taemin's living room, having chicken and pizza while an old movie plays on the TV, the volume turned down so it becomes background noise to their conversations about their week. They talk about lots of things during these dinners—from work to celebrity gossip—but the _last_ thing Taemin expected to hear tonight was that Jongin's having a baby. In fact, he didn't expect it _at all._

Within the split second of silence, his mind goes haywire trying to figure out what happened. He doesn't know what shocks him more—the fact that Jongin is _having a baby_ or that he had _someone_ he could have a baby _with._ It's been years since the last time his best friend dated anyone, and he definitely would have known if Jongin was with someone. He _keeps track,_ plus he knows everything about Jongin. _Everything._

Or at least he _thought_ he did, because he _didn't know_ Jongin was having a baby.

Jongin cuts off his train of thought with a bark of laughter, most likely reading off of his expression.

"I didn't knock anyone up, if that's what you're thinking. Relax."

A relieved sigh escapes Taemin's lips. It feels like all the air is coming back to his lungs, despite not knowing when he started holding his breath in the first place.

So, it's not like he missed too many things and didn't know that Jongin was seeing someone. He didn't _have_ anyone.

"I'm adopting," his best friend goes on. "...As a single parent."

Taemin gapes. His mind starts whirring again.

"Is that even _possible?"_

"Yeah, I looked it up, and turns out it's a thing," Jongin says, casually sitting up to take another piece of chicken from the box, as if this conversation is nothing. "I'm done with all the necessary procedures, but I'm still waiting for a match."

"Wait—" Now _that's_ another surprise. "How long have you been _planning_ this?"

Taemin may not know anything about adoption, but he knows that it doesn't only take a week—or two weeks, or even a month—to plan out _._ It's _surely_ a long process, and if everything's already _done,_ that means Jongin has been at it for a _while._

He watches as Jongin scratches his ear and avoids his gaze. His suspicions are probably right, since he's reacting like this.

"For a year? A little more, maybe."

Taemin's jaw loosens. Unbelievable. Jongin _had_ hidden this for him for so long. He doesn't even have to say anything for Jongin to know what he's thinking. It's probably written all over his face.

"Sorry for keeping it from you," Jongin glances at him apologetically. "I didn't tell anyone except my parents and sisters… I just— I thought if I told you, you'd… I don't know, change my mind?"

Taemin doesn't know what to say to that. The reasoning isn't good enough to make his frown go away, but he gets it. They value each other's opinions more than anything; it would have been _way_ too easy for Taemin to sway his best friend's decision if he knew.

It's still a little disappointing, though. He would have supported Jongin through thick or thin, on _whatever_ he decided to do, with _or_ without him; just like that time he fought _hard_ to open his very own dance studio.

He thought Jongin _knew_ that.

"Sorry, Taemin-ah," Jongin repeats solemnly. "I can't believe I managed to keep it hidden for so long either."

A moment of silence passes, before Taemin finally lets out a sigh.

"It's okay," he says. Then he turns his torso towards the other man, propping one of his legs up on the couch. "But Jongin-ah… Are you sure about this? This is a child, Jonginnie. A human being. Not a puppy."

Taemin reaches his hand towards Jongin's, who turns his hand palm side up and links their fingers together in a reaction as well-practiced and as natural as breathing. He looks into the other man's eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation. Anything at all.

Jongin may be good with children—or at least, he's good with his nieces and nephews—but doing everything _all by himself_ sounds like such a daunting task. Even though he supports his best friend's decision, he still can't help but feel a little concerned.

"You'll have to live with this child forever. Raise them. Watch them grow," he continues, unconsciously tightening his hold on Jongin's hand. "What if… what if you find someone later on, and they don't want your child—"

Jongin's free index finger reaches out to rest on Taemin's lips, effectively cutting him off. The tiny smile on the younger man's face practically _screams_ fond amusement; he's probably thinking that Taemin is worrying about nothing.

"I've thought about this. A lot." Jongin takes the finger off his lips and trails his hand down Taemin's upper arm, settling on top of his free hand. With both of their hands joined together, Jongin's smile fades out into a sigh. "You know how my relationships _never_ end up working out..."

The wry look in Jongin's eyes makes him think back to his best friend's past lovers. He always thought they were horrible—all _five_ of them—but then again, he may be a little biased.

Jongin chuckles at his unintentional eye roll, probably reading his mind.

"Yeah. See? Well, I'm… _we,_ both of us are in our thirties now. It's way past time to start a family. You may not think much of it since you're all about your career and everything, but _I've_ always wanted a family of my own. You know that."

Taemin nods. Jongin had always dreamed about his own family since they were children. He wanted to be a husband, a father, a grandfather; that was before they even knew how to dream about being the best dancers in the world—and that had been their dream since they were _six years old._

"But I also don't wanna just… find a random person to settle with, you know?" Jongin continues. "I feel like I'll never find anyone to spend the rest of my life with—and by the time I do, if _ever,_ it might be too late for a child."

Jongin's voice diminishes as he speaks, getting smaller and smaller, but the words still sound perfectly clear as they vibrate through the air.

An old, _very old,_ bitterness resurfaces in Taemin's heart.

Evidently, Jongin has given up on finding someone, _anyone,_ without considering _him,_ the one and only person who has unfailingly supported him by his side. This _always_ happens, time and time again, and it _never_ fails to make him feel slightly unworthy, even though he knows that his place in Jongin's heart is _miles_ above everyone else's.

He shakes the familiar feeling away before it festers inside him, just like all those years ago. He's over it. He has been confidently saying he's _over it_ for six years now, and he refuses to let it come back after all the effort he put into getting over his feelings. It's not the time for this.

"Oh. So… You thought you'd just adopt. On your own."

His voice ends up sounding a little sharper than intended because of his inner struggles. Hopefully, Jongin takes it as offense towards not telling him about the whole adoption process, instead of other things.

Jongin nods. "Yeah. I'm ready, Taemin-ah. I'll love this child like he or she is my own. Don't you think I can pull it off?

Taemin doesn't doubt Jongin's readiness, not really, yet he still can't take the frown off of his own lips. That's when Jongin squeezes his hands, tightening their hold.

"Besides, if all fails, I'll still have you to help me out, right?"

His best friend's lips quirk into a lopsided smile that is so _stunning_ it made him go blank for about a second. With just the bare minimum from this contagious smile, Taemin can already feel the corners of his own lips twitching upwards, all his bitterness fading away.

He blinks, moving his eyes towards the window behind Jongin instead, unable to look at his blinding grin. He clears his throat.

"Well, if you're playing _that_ card—"

"I knew I could count on you," Jongin grins at him before he even finishes talking, pulling his hands away to drape one across his shoulders. He pulls him into a side hug, ruffling his hair like they used to do when they were much younger. "You're _the best_ best friend ever, Taeminnie."

The best _best friend,_ huh. Now _that's_ funny. Kibum would definitely laugh.

Taemin huffs. There's nothing else he can do.

"Of course I am," he grins and wraps an arm around Jongin's waist, scooting closer to rest his head on his best friend's shoulder. "I _have_ known you since before you were even _born,_ after all."

-

Jongin's daughter comes four months later, on a bright morning in spring.

Her name is Jiyeon. She's only about a year and a half old—almost two—but apparently she's _very,_ very smart. Despite not having met her in person, Taemin feels like he already knows her, all thanks to her newly-crowned father who has been texting and calling him _nonstop_ just to gush about her every action.

Between Jongin's sudden announcement and her arrival, Taemin had gotten dragged around _various_ shopping malls, choosing and buying cribs, toys, beds—a _ton_ of baby things. Jongin basically abandoned his prized dance studio just so he could dive into renovating his apartment's spare bedroom into a little girl's room, and he _never_ abandons his studio. Ever.

By association, Taemin, _too,_ had to reschedule some meetings for their shopping trips. He didn't really _have_ to, but he did it anyway, to show his support.

"You may say you're over him, but you're _whipped,"_ Kibum told him, when he called in to cancel their lunch meeting for the _third_ time, but he respectfully disagrees. He's not whipped; it's just _extremely_ hard to refuse Jongin when he uses his puppy eyes on him. Jongin may be four years past thirty, but his puppy eyes are _still_ as powerful of a weapon as when he was seven.

All this come with consequences, of course. After skipping and rescheduling his meetings, he only had two weeks to finalize touring plans for the summer with the rest of the staff. Besides that, he also had to work on the Fall program, _and_ monitor rehearsals for the shows in the Spring program. _Busy_ was an understatement; and that is why it took him three whole weeks to find time to meet the famous ball of sunshine, Kim Jiyeon. Nickname courtesy to her father.

"You sure it's okay for me to meet her?" he speaks quickly into the phone. He's already parked in the guest parking lot at Jongin's apartment, but he can't help feeling a little unsure. "It's only been three weeks—wouldn't it be overwhelming for her to meet more people?"

"It will be _fine_. She warms up to new people quickly," Jongin tells him on the phone, chuckling. "Besides, I've told her _all_ about Uncle Taemin who helped decorate her room. She's really happy with it, by the way. Right, Jiyeonnie?"

A little girl's giggle chimes on the other end of the line, and Taemin can't help but smile despite all his unnecessary worries.

"Okay, then. Since you're so sure..."

Well, he's already downstairs anyway. It's not like he's going to turn around and leave after driving all the way to Jongin's apartment.

Taemin listens to Jongin coo at his daughter through the phone as he grabs the prettily wrapped gifts on the passenger's seat. He made a pit stop at the toy store earlier in the day, to buy a couple of toys for the baby girl.

This is nerve-wrecking, to say the least. He can't stop thinking of the worst case scenarios. What if she _hates_ him? He won't be able to spend time with Jongin anymore, with him being so busy with his daughter. Plus, he can't help but feel attached to her already. Going on all the shopping trips made him feel like he's turned into a father himself. He ended up choosing _half_ of the stuff in Jiyeon's bedroom, for god's sake; he was pretty much _already_ as involved in her life as Jongin was, despite not meeting even once.

Taemin rings the doorbell when he arrives at Jongin's door, juggling the boxes in his arms so he can reach for the button. Usually, he would just walk in—the password is just Jongin's birthday, nothing complicated—but baby Jiyeon might not be used to it. It's probably better to give them a little heads up before barging inside.

Noise from inside the room faintly reverberates through the door, heavy footsteps sounding closer and closer until the door finally opens.

"Hey, come in," Jongin says, grinning _very_ widely as he holds his door. "I'm telling you—she's really excited. You have no reason to be worried."

Taemin steps inside. He chuckles nervously as he toes off his shoes, looking up at his best friend. "You sure you're not just making this up to make me feel better?"

"Of course not, don't be stupid," Jongin rolls his eyes, before he calls out towards the living room. "Jiyeonnie, guess who's here??"

All his nerves fly out the window when Jiyeon waddles into sight, crossing the couple steps it takes to reach them. Her little pigtails bounce as she walks over unsteadily, running to grab her father's outstretched hands to steady herself before she could fall.

Chuckling, Jongin picks her up, bringing her to Taemin's eye level.

"Jiyeonnie, say hi to uncle Taemin," Jongin says brightly, taking her tiny hand to make a little wave. "Hi, uncle~"

"Hi~" she echoes innocently.

Taemin chuckles. "Hello, Jiyeonnie~"

He frees one of his hands to take hers, waving it around a little. The toddler _giggles,_ and she looks so radiant it makes him feel like he's going to _melt._

"Uncle Taemin got Jiyeonnie presents," he continues after letting go of the girl's hand. It's a little awkward to be speaking in baby-talk, but it doesn't matter because this baby is _smiling_ at him. "Does Jiyeonnie like presents?"

Jiyeon looks at the colorful boxes Taemin waves in front of her face, then up at Jongin, who is looking at her encouragingly, then back at the boxes again.

"Yeah!" she exclaims excitedly.

Without any more hesitation, she reaches out towards the boxes in Taemin's arms. However, she ends up looking a little frustrated, since she's being held up in the air, and can't struggle out of her father's hold.

"Daddy," she pouts up at Jongin after her struggles fail, tugging his shirt with one hand as she points at the boxes in Taemin's hands with the other. "Daddy~"

Taemin can't help the chuckle that escapes his lips at this sight. Her gestures and the little whines are simply _adorable._

"Yeah, _daddy,_ let her get to the presents," he teases Jongin with a wiggle of his eyebrows, getting an eye roll in return.

Not waiting for the pair, Taemin walks ahead of them to the living room—to Jiyeon's unsatisfied whine, because her presents are being taken away—and places the gifts on the floor, kneeling down next to the little pile.

Jongin stoops down across from him, and lets Jiyeon stand on his knees. "Shall we open the presents, Jiyeonnie?"

"Yeah! Open!" she nods, trying to echo Jongin's words as he spins her around to face the gifts. Her pronunciation still isn't very good, but it's cute. She then grabs one of the boxes—making sure to pick the biggest and most colorful one—and directs a wide-eyed stare at Taemin, pushing the box she's holding towards him.

"Daddy~ Open~"

Taemin quirks his eyebrow, and points to himself.

"Me?" he says, to the little girl's vigorous nods.

"I'm not your daddy." But he takes the box from her anyway, before pointing at Jongin. "Your daddy is over there, Jiyeonnie."

Her gaze follows Taemin's finger, but she doesn't care—she abandons her _actual_ adoptive father and wobbles in Taemin's direction, following the colorful box.

"Daddy," she repeats, this time with a pronounced pout. She points her finger at the box and unsuccessfully tries to rip off the wrapping, when she sees that he isn't making a move. "Daddy~ Open~"

"Fine, fine, I'll open it for you, okay?" Taemin says. She cheers, and he starts carefully ripping the gift wrap off. While his hands are at work, he redirects his gaze towards Jongin, who has been sitting in silence, amusedly watching them.

"Why is she calling me her dad?"

"Who knows?" Jongin shrugs. "Maybe she thinks we look alike."

"...That actually sounds convincing."

Taemin continues peeling off the gift wrap from the little box, with Jiyeon cheering him on and Jongin observing their interactions. Finally, he finishes with a loud rip.

"Yay!" Jiyeon cheers, immediately reaching for the clear box containing a baby princess doll, complete with a colorful outfit to play dress-up with. Taemin hands it over to her, and she runs back to her father, giggling excitedly. "Daddy, look!"

"Yeah, I'm looking," Jongin replies, pulling her into his arms. "Do you like it, Jiyeonnie?"

"Yeah!" she giggles, looking at Taemin's direction.

"You haven't even opened the box yet," he mutters to himself, shaking his head in amusement. He doesn't even think the girl understands what he's saying.

Even so, Jiyeon seems to have caught onto his meaning—that they're not _finished_ opening her gift yet—because she turns her head up towards Jongin, impatiently shaking the box in her hands.

"Daddy. Open?"

"You want daddy to open this for you?" Jongin asks. Then, his mischievous eyes lock with Taemin's and with a grin, he asks another question.

"Do you want this daddy to do it…" he trails off, then points at Taemin. "Or the daddy over there to do it?"

Taemin snorts and shakes his head. "I already did most of the work. _You're_ her actual dad, you do the rest."

"I'm asking her, not you."

Jiyeon doesn't seem to care; she's just bouncing on her father's lap with the box in hand. Jongin ends up doing the job, opening the box for his little girl as she waits for her baby princess to be freed from her clear plastic cage. Before long, Jongin pulls it out of the box, and Jiyeon immediately grabs it away from him, hugging it while cheering all the way through.

A soft smile graces Taemin's lips at the sight, warmth spreading through his veins from seeing the happy father-daughter pair. He really didn't need to worry about anything—not about Jongin not being able to pull it off, and not about Jiyeon not liking him. Everything is working out perfectly, at least right now, and he's very glad.

"Go say thank you to uncle Taemin," Jongin teaches his daughter, pointing at Taemin again. "Thank you, uncle Taemin~"

Jiyeon's eyes follow her dad's finger to meet Taemin's eyes. In the end, she only manages to make some incoherent noise that sort of sounds like 'thank you' but the dazzling smile on her face is good enough to make his day.

Taemin scoots closer to the father-daughter pair, and reaches out to squish the baby's soft, chubby cheeks. He smiles brightly; brighter than any of his smiles in the past couple of years.

"You're welcome, Jiyeonnie."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back with fluffy babies and parents!Taekai ♡ This is for an anon's fake marriage!AU+adoption prompt on Tumblr, although I took out the marriage part. I really loved the idea, so I kinda ran with it lol. It's probably not ~exactly~ what you expected, so I'm sorry, I hope you don't mind me doing this!
> 
> I'm still not sure if I'll be able to pull this off, because I haven't interacted long-term with one-year-olds in like, a decade. All the stuff about adoption is also just based on Google, so if anything's unrealistic please let me know. Same goes for the dance company stuff. Those are based on my experience at other sectors of performing arts so it may not be too far off, but if you know better, feel free to hit me up. Here's my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mlchlwhite) and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/melancholywhite) (in case you'd rather be anonymous) if you want to talk!
> 
> Anyway, I don't even know where I'm taking this yet (not even sure about that title...) so I don't have a concrete update schedule or anything at the moment. I _do_ hope to write the next chapter soon, though. Hopefully, this one sounds interesting enough for you to keep on reading.
> 
> Thank you for getting this far! See you at the next chapter 6v6 ♡


	2. Chapter 2

_"Taemin-ah," Jongin says to him one night, as they lie together on the practice room floor, sweaty and exhausted from hours of extra dancing. "I think I'm in love."_

_"Oh," is all he responds with._

_He knows exactly who Jongin's talking about—it's the girl he's been texting since a month or two ago. He hasn't met her personally, but Kibum knows her pretty well and he says she's nice so he's fine with this._

_It's not like he has the right to_ not _be fine with it, anyway; he's just being bitter inside because the same thing is happening again. Jongin's_ in love _again, and it's_ not him _again._ _Same old, same old. He's used to it by now; though being used to it doesn't make the news easier to bear._

_"Yeah... We're such a great match," Jongin continues dreamily, his face lighting up and glowing in excitement._

_A forced smile makes its way onto Taemin's lips, but he manages to curve it up into a wider, teasing grin just in time. "That's what you always say."_

_"I know," Jongin rolls his eyes, but he's smiling as he continues on with his words. "But this time it's different. I think this is it. I think she's the one for me."_

And he thinks Jongin's the one for him, but that will never come to fruition, will it? _His mind supplies to him, acid creeping inside his heart_ yet again, _just like all the other times Jongin confesses something like this to him._

 _The first time Jongin told him he was in love with someone, it brought his own feelings into the surface, making him realize, albeit too late, exactly how_ far _his love for his best friend runs. It wasn't too late the second time, but he was scared—too scared to actually tell Jongin about his feelings, and by the time the third rolls around, he had gotten into the mindset that confessing would just ruin everything and make Jongin unhappy._

_Because of that, he supports Jongin in his relationships each and every time, watching from the sidelines as he falls in and out of love with all these people; people who were not him and will never be him. The cycle repeats over and over for years; Taemin loyally staying by his best friend's side, through the smiles and the tears caused by the men and women he said he loved, standing by to listen to Jongin vent his feelings out—without doing anything about his own. Kibum keeps calling him stupid for doing this, but he doesn't care; he's happy as long as Jongin is happy._

_"I'm serious, this time." Jongin reaches sideways to grab his hand, linking their fingers together as they always had since they were kids. "I know it has never worked out in the past, but this... I think this will work out."_

_"Are you asking for my blessing or something?" Taemin asks, unable to help a single wry chuckle from escaping his lips. Jongin turns his head to give him a look that says_ 'isn't that obvious' _so all Taemin can do is sigh. "Fine. Bring her to the show. It will be your—our—best performance yet. You'll impress her, then you can finally make it official or something."_

_Jongin grins and rolls over to his side, his free hand reaching up to ruffle his hair._

"I love you, Taem," _his best friend says, and there it is, the twinge in his heart. It never fails to come whenever these exact words are directed at him—whenever he hears it_ knowing _that Jongin doesn't mean it the way he_ wants _him to mean it._ "Thanks for doing this."

_More than anything, he hopes the smile on his face doesn't look as bitter as the lump inside his throat._

_He is Jongin's best friend. That is what he is. That is all he's ever going to be, and maybe it's time to start accept the fact that Jongin won't ever love him the way he wants to be loved._

_He will give up. Forget. Get over these stupid feelings that only caused him pain for_ years. _He knows he's been telling himself this exact same thing every single time this happens, and he knows that he'll most likely fail yet again, but maybe, just maybe, this time it will work._

_What they have is good enough. Jongin places him and their life-long friendship above any of the people he's ever dated, after all, and that's perfectly fine with him._

"Sure," _he forces the words out._ "I'm your best friend, after all."

-

 _Are we still on for tonight,_ says the text Taemin receives on his phone in the middle of his little lunch meeting with Kibum and another colleague. The phone lies on the table, untouched, but the messages just keep coming, vibrating next to his plate. _Should we meet at the mall or somewhere else,_ the next message says.

The messages are coming from Jongin, who probably should know better than to expect him to reply quickly during work hours. But Jongin gets like this sometimes; texts him nonstop until he replies, and then sulks when he only responds with one or two words, as if he doesn't do the same when _he's_ busy.

 _Taeminnie answer me this is important,_ the texts continue, but Taemin doesn't reply; not yet. He's in the middle of a meeting, although it's technically almost finished, and texting while trying to finish up a discussion isn't exactly appropriate.

A couple minutes and more texts later, they wrap up the conversation and Kibum throws his phone a curious look. "You're not answering that?"

"Oh, right. I almost forgot."

He _didn't_ almost forget, but Kibum's seen the screen—he _knows_ who the texts are from—so if he looks even a little bit _too_ eager to answer the texts, his older friend will definitely start teasing him.

"I didn't realize our workaholic artistic director's hiding a girlfriend," his and Kibum's colleague teases from across the table. She probably noticed how his phone kept vibrating nonstop with texts, and as expected, her little quip makes Kibum burst out in laughter.

"He isn't. He's hiding a husband instead—ow!" Kibum yelps when Taemin swats him on the torso, and their colleague laughs from across the table. He doesn't regret doing it; Kibum certainly earned that little bit of pain after all the teasing he's put him through.

"I'll be right back," he excuses himself before Kibum can say anything else. As he gets up, his older friend starts his explanation—that the hidden girlfriend-husband-person is Jongin—and unluckily for Taemin, she immediately _gets_ the joke, having worked with them even before he and Jongin retired as dancers.

Shaking off the light embarrassment clouding his head, he starts typing as he walks. But before he even finished the first word, he changes his mind and presses the call button instead.

The dial tone only rings once before Jongin's deep voice resounds through the phone. "Oh, Taemin-ah. What were you doing?"

"I was at a meeting, sorry," he says, with a tiny chuckle. "I saw the texts. You _really_ didn't have to send me that many, you know."

Jongin laughs.

"I thought you were in the studio spacing out," Jongin explains, a teasing lilt obvious in his tone. "You know you wouldn't even _realize_ you got a text if I only sent you one."

"Or even two," he admits, because he _does_ do that a lot, spacing out in the studio or in his little office. His best friend is _definitely_ not one to talk, though. Jongin does the same thing as often as he does.

"Anyway, this isn't a raincheck call, right?" Jongin asks through the phone, and it reminds Taemin of _why_ he had called in the first place.

"Of course not. I drove to work today, so I was just gonna say I'll pick you up on the way."

"Sounds good," Jongin confirms. Taemin may not be able to see his best friend's face, but he can hear the smile forming on his lips as he speaks. "Jiyeon's _really_ excited, by the way."

"When is she _not?_ She's always excited," Taemin laughs at the thought of the baby girl, images of her pigtails shaking as she giggles up at him crossing his mind. "Anyway, I have to go."

"Already?" Jongin seems a bit surprised, but even though Taemin would love to talk more, he actually _does_ have to go, so he can only hum out his affirmation. "Fine, okay. I'll see you later."

"Yeah, see you."

He hangs up and walks back quickly. When he gets back to his table, Kibum's sitting there alone—who knows where the other person went—watching him as he takes his seat.

"Going on a date?"

The knowing grin on Kibum's face never fails in making his thoughts more obvious. Taemin almost rolls his eyes.

"No, we're just going shopping and eating out with Jiyeon," he explains, before adding. "Jiyeon—that's Jongin's daughter."

"Oh, a date with his daughter," Kibum teases. "How sweet."

_"Hyung."_

"What?"

"Stop it."

Kibum scoffs.

"Why should I?" he says. "Every time I hear about you guys, I feel like I'm hearing about a married couple with their first child—"

"Except we're _not_ married," Taemin cuts off. "Or in any kind of relationship _resembling_ marriage."

"Except you _are._ Weren't you just looking for a daycare together two weeks ago?" Kibum raises his eyebrow challengingly. "You're attached by the hip and you're raising a child together. How is that _not_ a 'relationship resembling marriage'? Plus, you're _in love_ with him."

"It's not like that, hyung, I swear," Taemin sighs. "I'm just helping out, that's all. I'm not even in love with him anymore."

"That's not how _I_ see it, but suit yourself," Kibum shrugs, rolling his eyes. "I already warned you, though. Don't come at me when you finally realize I'm _right."_

-

"Jiyeon-ah, look at this," Taemin reaches for a hanger carrying a light blue jersey dress with white stripes, white leggings clipped beneath it as a styling suggestion. His other arm is occupied with carrying a certain little toddler in pigtails—because she was _tired_ and her dad is off picking out clothes somewhere—but he manages, using his free hand to hold it up. "Isn't it cute?"

Suddenly, a warm figure he associates with none other than Jongin presses against his back; a familiar toned arm appears next to him, fingers clasping over his own to forcibly guide it back towards where the hanger he's holding came from.

"Yah. Are you trying to turn my daughter into a stripes-maniac like you?"

Jongin's voice sounds very close to his ear when he speaks, but by the time Taemin turns around to face him, he's already a step away, staring at him and Jiyeon judgingly with one eyebrow raised. Taemin decides to ignore his best friend and takes the outfit back, tossing it into the shopping bag in Jongin's hand.

"Better than _your_ choices," he says, eyeing the other pieces of clothing in the bag. "She can't only wear black, white, and brown for the rest of her life. Right, Jiyeonnie?"

Jiyeon giggles in his arms, but apparently her bright smile isn't a good enough weapon to make her dad give up.

"Your choices may be more colorful, but this is the _third_ time you picked out something with stripes," Jongin complains, although he doesn't take the objects of his complaints out of the bag he's holding. "I'm not buying her these."

Taemin shakes his head, and decides to focus on the toddler in his hold instead, squeezing her puffed cheeks.

"Did you hear that, Jiyeonnie? Daddy's _so mean,"_ he starts, catching the little girl's wide eyes. Her eyebrows knit together, although he has no idea if it's because of the cheek-squeezing or because she understands what he's saying. "But uncle Taeminnie is _a lot_ nicer than daddy, so uncle will buy the cute dresses for you, okay?"

Taemin grins down at her, and she claps her tiny hands, squealing excitedly. He can't help but squeeze her chubby cheeks again—which unfortunately makes her stop giggling and start pouting adorably. Truthfully, he never thought he'd _ever_ find a toddler adorable. Before meeting Jiyeon, he thought all toddlers would act like how his older brother's sons did—those annoying, extremely troublesome, tiny humans. Babysitting them _once_ traumatized him; they almost made him not want to have children forever.

"Stop brainwashing my daughter," Jongin pokes at the apple of Taemin's cheek, trying to tamp down his cheeky grin. "Watch. She'll _definitely_ love what I picked for her."

From the large shopping bag, the younger man takes out a frilly white shirt—which is admittedly very cute—and holds it up in front of his daughter. "Look at this, Jiyeonnie. Isn't this cute?"

Unexpectedly, Jiyeon furrows her eyebrows, eyes flickering up and down from her father's face and the clothes he's holding. Her absolutely judgmental face makes Taemin crack up.

"See? It's obvious she likes _my_ pick better," he chuckles. "She liked my baby princess better than the teddy bear you gave her, too."

Jongin's lips jut out into a pout. "That's _different."_

"Is it?" Taemin teases, his free index finger coming up to poke at Jongin's chin. He knows that if he does this, the pout on Jongin's face will quickly turn into a little smile; and it _does,_ before the smile disappears into a competitive grin.

"Jiyeonnie, look here."

Jongin reaches into the bag and pulls out _both_ his frilly white shirt and the light blue dress Taemin picked, holding them up side by side.

"Here. Look at this one," he says, waving the white shirt in front of her face. "Daddy picked it out for you. Do you like it?"

Jiyeon's eyebrows furrow once again, and she looks up at her father in the _most_ hilariously appalled face. "No."

Taemin honestly would have laughed again, if it weren't for Jongin holding up the other piece of clothing, while asking the toddler the same question.

"How about this one? Uncle Taeminnie picked this one," Jongin says, pointing at him. Jiyeon's gaze follow his friend's finger up to his face, but soon her attention is back on Jongin's voice. "Look. Do you like this one?"

This time, Jiyeon actually pauses, eyes focusing on the light blue dress he picked out for her. She looks so conflicted and serious, and it's not like Taemin could read her mind, but she's acting like he would drop her to the floor if she says something wrong.

She's a literal baby, though—she probably isn't thinking _that_ far.

"...No," she slurs out after what seems to be _very careful_ deliberation, her voice five times more hesitant than when she rejected her own father.

"Hey, what is that pause supposed to mean?" Jongin whines, and this time Taemin actually laughs.

"What are you getting so offended about," he says, barely holding back the fond _'idiot'_ that he was about to add to the end of his sentence. Even _he_ knows it's not good to say bad words in front of babies. "She doesn't like either of them. Big deal."

"This is your fault. She has bad taste," Jongin keeps complaining as he shoves the two outfits back inside the shopping bag. Taemin was so busy giggling while watching his best friend sulk that he almost missed the tugging on his shirt.

"Daddy," Jiyeon calls, looking up at him, her tiny hands still curled around the fabric of his shirt. "Daddy~"

He uncurls her fingers and shakes them, smiling. "Yes, Jiyeon-ah, what is it?"

Jiyeon starts babbling some more incoherent words and points toward a certain direction, struggling to pull away from Taemin's hold. So, carefully, he puts her down on the ground, letting her run towards whatever she saw while he and Jongin follow behind her.

She stops a few steps away, right in front of a little mannequin wearing a white top with black polka dots, and a pink overall layered above it. Her eyes seem to sparkle as she looks back at him and Jongin, bouncing in place.

"Daddy! Look!"

Words excitedly tumble out of Jiyeon's lips as she tries copying how Jongin told her to _look at this_ and _look at that_ earlier. She tugs at one of the pink dresses hanging on the rack next to the mannequin, pulling and shaking the hem as it's the only part she can reach with her height.

Jongin pulls the hanger off the rack and kneels in front of his daughter, letting her hold the pieces of clothing. "Do you like this one, Jiyeonnie?"

Taemin looks down at the father-daughter pair, watching as Jiyeon grips the fabric tighter and beams at Jongin.

"Yeah!" Jiyeon giggles out. Her pigtails shake on top of her head as she nods excitedly, bouncing on her feet. "Daddy, look!"

"Yeah, yeah, daddy's looking," Jongin sighs, a tiny smile gracing his lips. "You sure you don't want the ones daddy picked?"

"Yeah!"

"What about the ones uncle Taeminnie picked?" Jongin looks up, eyes locking with Taemin's own before turning back to his daughter. "You sure you don't want that either?

Jiyeon frowns and starts pouting, but eventually she wiggles with the dress in her hand, mumbling quietly. "...Yeah."

"You're pausing _again?"_ Jongin mock-whines, his face contorting dramatically, making Jiyeon laugh at him.

Taemin can't help the smile that blooms on his lips when seeing the two of them laugh together like this. It's giving him _dangerous_ heart palpitations, so he distracts himself by browsing at the rack Jiyeon's dress came from—before his mind could travel back to what Kibum told him earlier in the day. He doesn't want to think about that. Not now, and not in the near future, either.

When Taemin finds the pink overall in Jiyeon's size, he slips it—and the polka dot t-shirt the mannequin next to it was wearing—inside the shopping bag Jongin put down on the floor before he knelt in front of his daughter. He picks up the bag and slings it over his shoulder, looking down at his best friend and the toddler in little pigtails.

"Well, then, should we go pay for all this?"

"Yep. Are you ready to go, Jiyeonnie?" Jongin gets up, dusting his pants from any dirt that was on the floor. He opens his arms up for the little girl who runs straight into them. He swiftly picks her up and swings her around, making her giggle. "Are you ready? Ready? Not ready?"

"Stop playing around, you two," Taemin laughs, poking at his best friend's arm to urge him towards the register. "Hurry and go."

-

"Jiyeonnie. Say _ah~"_

"Ah~"

After shopping, Jongin, followed by his daughter and Taemin, ended up at a fast food joint, completely starving and ready for dinner. Right now—and since their food came out—Taemin and Jiyeon are feeding each other french fries, taking turns shoving the crisply fried pieces into each other's mouths.

The thing is, they're so _adorable_ he can't stop watching them—and he can't help but feel just a _tiny_ bit of jealousy, because he wants a fry too.

At first, he didn't think that Taemin and Jiyeon would get along this well. He _knows_ Taemin isn't much of a _child person,_ if that's even a valid term. In general, Taemin has never been good with children—and he's especially bad with babies and toddlers, so his initial surprise when he saw how _fast_ the two of them _clicked_ is perfectly justified.

It's great this way, though. Since they get along perfectly fine, he and Taemin don't have to spend any less time together than before Jiyeon came into his life. They can still hang out whenever they have free time, and they can still do the weekly dinners—the only difference is now their tiny world of two has widened, even if only by one extra wobbling toddler.

"Daddy," Jiyeon's call distracts him from his thoughts. She has a piece of fry in her hand, and she's reaching out towards him. "Ah~"

Jongin blinks, not expecting this at all, his heart melting at the cute way his baby is telling him to open his mouth. When he finally comes to his senses and parts his lips, Jiyeon pushes the french fry into his mouth, giggling proudly.

"Good job, Jiyeonnie," Taemin grins from beside her, his eyes locking on his own. "Now your daddy will stop glaring at me because he's jealous."

 _"I'm_ jealous?" Jongin huffs, his cheeks flaming in embarrassment. Classic Taemin, always able to read his mind perfectly. "I'm perfectly fine with my food, thanks."

"Sure, but your favorite daughter Jiyeonnie is feeding me instead of you," his best friend smirks mischievously. "You're _definitely_ jealous."

Jongin rolls his eyes. "Whatever. I don't care. She feeds me everyday at home, so _you_ better enjoy it while you have it."

Taemin laughs a hearty laugh that makes his whole chest shake. He doesn't think he's _that_ funny, but somehow his words made Taemin's cheeks rise all the way up, his laughter coming out in huffs, eyes crinkling when he blinks.

 _He's cute,_ says the random thought that flickers in his mind, but he catches himself before it could go anywhere. He's confused as to _why_ it even came up, because he probably shouldn't be thinking of how a man in his thirties could look as adorable as the actual toddler sitting next to him.

Besides that, the sight also makes him feel warm and tingly all over, and it's surprising, to say the least; he's seen this exact laugh a million times before and he's _never_ been this affected by it.

"Doesn't this remind you of old times?" Taemin suddenly begins, his voice taking Jongin's attention back to the real world. His laughter has fizzled out, but a nostalgic smile stays on his lips as he continues talking. "Remember that time we sneaked out of practice every day for a week just to eat these?"

Taemin gestures at the spread of food on the table. Lots of french fries, fried chicken, burgers—unhealthy stuff that definitely shouldn't be part of a dancer's diet.

"Yeah. One of your dumbest ideas," Jongin crinkles his nose at the memory. Sure, it was only a week, but it was _the_ week before they had to perform a choreography that required _a lot_ of lifting. "Good thing you don't gain weight easily."

"Why do you think I suggested it?" Taemin chuckles. "Do you really think I'm that irresponsible?"

 _"Yes,"_ Jongin doesn't even have to think to answer this question. If he looks back to all the stupid things they have done during their college days—and even _before_ then—more often than not everything started because Taemin somehow _coerced_ him into it. Well, it wasn't like he was hard to coerce anyway; these so-called stupid things made Taemin happy, and making his best friend happy had always been one of his priorities.

"You wound me," Taemin's grinning, but he puts his hand over his heart in mock-pain. He turns towards Jiyeon and starts whining. "Jiyeonnie, did you hear that? Your daddy's being mean to me again..."

Jiyeon tilts her head in confusion, her mouth full of fries, and Jongin huffs, pouting. Maybe having Taemin get along so well with his daughter wouldn't _always_ work in his favor, after all.

"Stop corrupting my child and eat your food."

Taemin starts laughing again and Jongin wants to keep pretending to sulk, but he fails miserably, with all the warmth and fondness that slips in all the way to his bones. His own traitorous lips quirk up into a smile, and he's _helpless._

-

"Okay, Jiyeon-ah… Uncle has to go home now," Taemin says, trying to get the girl's tiny fingers to uncurl from his hand. He was only walking them to their door, thinking it was a good idea to let Jiyeon drag him by the hand as she walks between him and Jongin, her other hand holding her father's own.

At his words, Jiyeon grips his hand tighter, making her disagreement very clear through her whining, despite her limited vocabulary. His resolve weakens; he can't help it, it's just _so hard_ to resist her.

"Alright, how about I stay for… twenty more minutes?" he offers. Unfortunately, the toddler only shakes her head even more vigorously, not wanting to let go. "Thirty minutes? An hour?"

"No, daddy!" she whines, her lips forming a pout as her eyes start to water.

Weakly, Taemin's eyes travel towards Jongin's, seeking some help in this critical situation.

"Should I just sleep over? I can sleep on your couch…"

"No, it's fine," Jongin bends down to pick his daughter up, effectively pulling her hand away from Taemin's. She starts crying and wailing, throwing a whole tantrum just so he doesn't have to go. "It's okay. She'll get tired and fall asleep soon. Go home."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Jongin smiles at him softly as he sways around in gentle bounces, trying to calm Jiyeon's mood. It doesn't work, not really, because her eyes are still trained on Taemin's figure, teardrops falling from her eyes as she tries reaching for him, calling for her 'daddy' over and over, even though he's actually the uncle here. "Go home, Taemin-ah. Aren't you tired?"

Honestly, he _is_ pretty tired. He worked all day, and he went out with Jongin and Jiyeon right afterwards. Some rest is _very badly_ needed, but the pitiful girl's crying is tugging at his heart _hard._

"Jiyeonnie, uncle is going home, okay?" he coaxes, wiping some of her tears away as he smiles at her, but she's still shaking her head and whining. "I'll come back tomorrow, I promise."

He looks past Jiyeon to catch Jongin's eyes, silently asking for permission—which he quickly gets from the affirmative smile he receives. Well, he supposes he _will_ be coming back tomorrow.

"Jiyeonnie?" Jiyeon looks upwards at Jongin's call. "Say bye-bye to uncle Taemin."

"No," she whines, her pout turning more prominent. "Daddy, no!"

"Jiyeon, uncle Taeminnie is tired. He has to go home," Jongin's tone drops, more stern than the girl is used to. "Say bye-bye."

Taemin can feel how uncomfortable it is for Jongin to do this, but he understands that it's needed. It still doesn't stop his chest from clenching at the heartbreaking sight, though.

Finally, with obvious reluctance, Jiyeon turns her head around, her lips quivering as she locks eyes with him. "Bye-bye…"

"Bye, Jiyeonnie," Taemin says, squeezing her chubby cheeks, which doesn't help in sending her little pout away. "Don't cry too much, okay?"

When Taemin looks up, his eyes meet Jongin's tender ones. His best friend's free arm lifts and snakes around his shoulders, pulling him into a quick side hug, his hand lingering in Taemin's own as they part.

"Call me when you get home."

"I will," he replies easily, squeezing Jongin's hand before letting go. Finally, after a difficult goodbye—Jiyeon's _still_ tearing up—he takes a step back, waving. "Bye, see you tomorrow!"

-

Jongin has just tucked his daughter into bed—assured himself that she's _really_ sleeping, finally calmed down after crying and throwing a tantrum over Taemin leaving—when he hears his phone ring from where he left it in his living room. He walks over quickly and grabs it, barely registering Taemin's name on the caller ID before picking up.

"Hey," he greets into the phone, "You're home?"

"Yep," Taemin's light chuckle resounds in his ear, rustling and shuffling heard in the background. He's probably heading to bed; Jongin can imagine him laid on his bed, with his phone against his ear, and for some reason, it brings warmth to his chest. "How's Jiyeon? Is she asleep?"

"Yeah. It took some time for her to stop looking at me like I've betrayed her, though."

His lips quirk up into a tired smile as his body sinks into his couch, mind traveling to the way his daughter sulked until she fell asleep on her own. "She's really attached to you, in case you haven't noticed."

Taemin chuckles. "Is she?"

"Yeah, I don't know why," Jongin hums, his own laughter bubbling up in his throat. "Maybe you should just move in here one of these days."

"Maybe I should," Taemin says, laughing. "Then you wouldn't have to spend _hours_ trying to get her to stop sulking."

"It didn't take _hours,_ stop exaggerating."

The conversation dies down soon after his last words, fading away into a comfortable silence, along with Taemin's huffs of laughter. Exhaustion is finally starting to hit; his eyelids feel heavier than ever, with a yawn threatening to escape his lips.

"You're falling asleep, aren't you?" Taemin's tired yet teasing tone wakes him up from his silence-induced distraction. He hums in reply, getting up from the couch to head to his bedroom, knowing that he won't be awake for much longer. Good thing he thought of changing before tucking his daughter into bed.

"Go to bed, Jongin-ah."

"I _am_ going to bed. Right now."

"Sleep tight, then," Taemin murmurs through the phone, pausing for two extra beats before he continues. "It must be tiring, being a single dad and everything."

Yes, Jongin's tired. He's tired, but he's also very happy, and he knows that having his best friend by his side throughout this whole thing is the only reason his burden isn't as heavy as it probably should be.

His heart swells as the thought crosses his mind, and the warmth doesn't leave, not even as he turns his lights off and slides onto the comfort of his bed.

"Thanks for helping me with her, Taemin-ah."

Sincere words from the depths of his heart seem to fall out of his mouth much easier in his body's tired state. He can't remember the last time he's spoken to Taemin with a tone this soft—this gentle—and it feels like it's been _such_ a long time.

"I'm really glad to have you with me. I hope you know that."

Silence arises in the air. Jongin has no idea why, but Taemin seems taken aback, allowing himself another long pause that ensues until he finally starts speaking again.

"I know," says the hesitant sound of his best friend's voice. "I know… and I'm happy to help. As long as you need me to."

Jongin can't help the deep chuckle that rumbles beneath his skin, feeling his own weight diminishing as Taemin's words vibrate in his ears. He feels light—or even _airy,_ as if he could _fly,_ even though he's actually on his bed, fully grounded by gravity.

"I love you, Taem," he says, and he means it; although at this point, he still has no idea exactly how _much_ he means it. "And thanks. For doing this."

Taemin pauses again. And for the second time in the past few minutes, Jongin doesn't know what his best friend is thinking amidst this silence.

"...Sure," Taemin's voice trembles with his reply. "I'm your best friend, after all."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, the three babies went on a date!! (｡>‿‿<｡ ) Sorry for the little flashback angst at the beginning though... ;; I hope all the fluff that followed made up for it heheh ♡
> 
> Thanks for reading! As always, comments are appreciated ♡ And, if you have questions (or if you just want to chat, really) feel free to hit me up on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mlchlwhite) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/melancholywhite)!
> 
> See you next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

"Jongin? Why are _you_ here?"

The first thing Jongin saw when he walked into the staff lounge that Saturday afternoon was Sehun, the friend he co-owns the studio with, sitting on the couch hunched over his laptop. His face was extremely puzzled when he looked up to see Jongin walk through the door.

"I thought your sisters couldn't babysit Jiyeon today?"

Jongin knows he just texted him two hours ago, telling him that he won't be able to help him setup for their event, but here he is, bright and early and ready for setup. Sehun's confusion is at least understandable.

"Yeah," he chuckles, dropping his things on the coffee table in front of the couch. "I dropped her off at Taemin's instead."

Sehun's jaw drops, and he starts laughing. _"Taemin?_ You're letting _Taemin_ babysit?"

"They get along well," Jongin shrugs.

The look on Sehun's face at his comment is so full of disbelief he can't help but join him in laughter. His friend also knows Taemin pretty well; they've been friends since the three of them joined the dance company together back in their younger days. Sehun eventually left to join another group, but they kept in touch, hanging out long after they stopped dancing together—which is why he also knows how much Taemin _hates_ babysitting.

"I know, but still. Aren't you worried he'll turn the kid on you?"

Jongin huffs at Sehun's amused look.

"They _already_ gang up to bully me all the time," he rolls his eyes, sitting down on the couch next to his friend. "He's such a soft dad with her, always giving her extra sweets and toys when he thinks I'm not looking. She _loves_ him."

There was a pause—and then Sehun starts sniggering.

"Dad, huh?" Sehun nudges his side with his elbow. "Congrats. When was the wedding?"

Jongin coughs.

The man next to him raises a questioning eyebrow, his smirk clearly saying that he's having a lot of fun with this, and Jongin immediately regrets his poor wording choice.

"Let's just get back to work," he says instead, before Sehun could start teasing him again.

Without another word, Sehun drops the topic, only shrugging with one last grin before he turns his attention back to his laptop.

It's strange. This feels way too easy. Usually, Sehun would pester him a little bit more before he's satisfied. Not that he minds the change. With one suspicious glance at his friend, he moves to get his own laptop and opens it to review today's schedule. They have three master classes today, the last one being his own, and he needs to have his lesson plan down pat—otherwise it would run late. He can't have it end later than it needs to be, because he has to pick up Jiyeon at Taemin's—and even though he trusts his friend, he's not sure what the two of them will do if he's gone for too long.

A tap on his shoulder brings him back to reality. Unknowingly, he's been sitting there for thirty minutes, looking at his documents and the choreography he prepared.

"I'm gonna go get the place set up," Sehun says, gesturing to the glass window behind him that overlooks the dark main studio.

"I'll catch up."

With a hum, Sehun walks out first, and soon the room brightens, light from the studio's overhead lamps filtering in through the window. There's only about an hour and a half left before people will start arriving, according to the schedule and the clock on the wall; he gets up to follow Sehun into the studio, heading straight to the control booth at the back of the room to check on sound and lights.

Jongin was quietly changing the colors of the LED lights lighting the wall when Sehun walks up next to him and starts talking to him again.

"Have you ever thought about dating him?"

The sudden question sounds louder than it is in the quiet studio, but Jongin wasn't paying attention.

"Huh?"

"Taemin," Sehun clarifies. "Have you ever thought about dating him?"

"Nope," he responds automatically. He's more focused on balancing the brightness levels of the purple lights—it looks off when compared to the yellow coming from the other side—than on answering Sehun's random question.

"Really? Never?" Sehun insists as he leans against the wall, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Not even once?"

Jongin pauses, stopping what he's doing to look out into the room. Even after he tries recalling his memories, the answer stays the same.

"No."

Well, at least not as far as he can remember. His mom told him many, many times about how four-year-old Jonginnie used to say he would marry his best friend Taeminnie when he grows up, but he doesn't remember saying any of that. She always used the information to blackmail him into doing chores, saying that she would tell Taemin if he doesn't help her wash the dishes.

Apparently, it was embarrassing enough that his eight-year-old self actually got up from his bear nap to wash dishes.

"Are you thinking about it now?" Sehun smirks. "You should, you know. He's kind of perfect for you."

Jongin wasn't thinking about _anything,_ but his ears grow warm at the other's teasing tone anyway. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Sehun scoffs.

"You literally look like a perfect little family of three already. Do I _really_ have to spell the rest of it out for you?"

As if cued by his friend's words, a couple more recent memories with Taemin flit through Jongin's mind; random moments they spent with Jiyeon that made him so happy he felt like he was walking on clouds. Then, there are also those moments when he'd see Taemin laugh—or pout, or blink, or do just about anything—and end up going into a weird trance, a little voice at the back of his head whispering _'oh, he looks so good like this'_ or _'why is he so cute today'._ It's strange—and it's even stranger that it happens so often these days.

After the last couple of times it happened, though, he's started to accept that it's his honest side talking—because he _does_ think Taemin is good-looking. _Very_ good-looking, in fact. He never thought otherwise—except when he sported that embarrassingly _hideous_ bowl cut in middle school. It's not like he can deny Taemin's attractiveness anyway, not when there's a zillion men and women lining up to date him _because_ of his handsome face. Jongin's had so many people come up to him in the past, asking to be set up with Taemin, only for Taemin to reject everyone—except that one guy he actually ended up dating a couple years ago—because he was _always_ too busy.

He snaps himself out of his head when he realizes that his thoughts are going everywhere. Sehun is also still standing there, arms crossed, patiently waiting for the conversation to continue, as if he knows Jongin will reply him even if he does it five minutes later.

"No, I get what you're saying," he says. "We're not like _that,_ though. You _know_ how we work."

Sehun's been around long enough to be familiar with his and Taemin's dynamics, he should know that this whole 'family' thing is just an extension of that. His tiny circle is just widening with his daughter's arrival, that's all. There's nothing else to think about.

Jongin glances at his friend to see him staring back with a scrutinizing gaze, observing him. He doesn't know what Sehun's looking for, but eventually he shrugs and looks away, humming quietly.

"You're missing out. Taemin's your soulmate," Sehun says.

Jongin huffs out a tiny laugh. He may not necessarily agree with the other parts of this random conversation, but at least he agrees that Taemin's his soulmate—though not in a romantic way. They've just been together so long that they're now practically the same person.

"Sure. Still doesn't mean we have to _date,"_ he replies. He purses his lips and puts his focus back on the control board he's been absently fiddling with. "Anyway, get back to work. People will be here soon."

Sehun scoffs. "Fine."

-

Taemin can't cook. This is a fact he has come to terms with long ago, and a _weakness,_ as his friends would say, that he never bothered to fix. He has never needed to cook before, aside from maybe making ramyeon and frying simple things, so there was no need to fix anything.

The problem is, right now he _needs_ to cook, because he currently has an overly-excited Kim Jiyeon in his apartment, who's probably hungry and in need of feeding. Not that she said anything—it's just that it's already dinner time, and kids shouldn't eat late.

A couple hours ago, Jongin shoved this toddler into his arms and into his apartment. Apparently, nobody else could babysit and he _just happened_ to recall Taemin telling him that today's his sleep day. His _very important_ sleep day, that was supposed to be his time to lay in bed, space out, and do nothing.

However, because of the one and only Kim Jongin, instead of sleeping on his sleep day, _this_ is what he's doing. Struggling with pots and pans in the kitchen, trying to whip up something decent for dinner because feeding her ramyeon doesn't _feel_ right.

"Daddy."

Focused, he practically buries his face in his phone, unaware of his surroundings as he studies a recipe he found online. It's just a simple fried rice, which should be easy enough for him to do even if he has never cooked before, as long as he follows all the instructions. He has all the ingredients—or at least he _thinks_ he does—and he thinks all the measurements are correct, but if all goes to hell, he'll probably ending up frying some ham and eggs or something.

"Daddyyyyyyy!!!!!"

Taemin groans.

"What? Daddy is trying to cook here!"

The sentence has already left his lips when he realized. He slipped. Again.

Recently, it's been getting harder _not_ to slip and call himself 'daddy' when he's with Jiyeon. That's how she's been referring to him ever since their first meeting, and it's just weird sometimes to respond to the word 'daddy' when she calls for him, but refer to himself as 'uncle' when he replies.

Once, he told Jongin to teach her the word 'uncle' so it's less confusing, but Jongin only rolled his eyes and laughed, saying it's futile. _'If she wants to call you 'daddy' she'll keep doing it, just give up,'_ Jongin told him. It's not like she doesn't know the word—she calls Jongin's brothers-in-law 'uncle' just fine—she just seems to _hate_ using it when it comes to him.

"Daddy! Pwaay!"

Jiyeon continues babbling at him as she bounces on her heels, her arms full of dolls. She's hugging both her favorite baby princess and her slightly-less-favored teddy bear close to her chest, engulfing her whole figure in a level of adorable that makes it _very_ hard for him to keep all the cooing from escaping his lips.

It doesn't help that _she_ looks like a slightly bigger teddy bear too, with the fluffy bear-eared hood of her fleece sweatshirt flopping down her forehead, almost covering her eyes. She looks lovable _and so cuddly;_ he can almost hear Jongin's rolling laughter in his head, making fun of him for going all soft on her _again._

He can't fall for this. He turns his attention back to his phone and his fried rice, because he knows himself and even a second of inattention will ruin this food. Even his favorite toddler isn't allowed to distract him.

"Daddyyyyy," Jiyeon whines, not taking well to being ignored.

"Daddy is cooking. Can't play right now." He slipped again, but he shakes it off. Who cares. It's not like Jongin is here to laugh at him. "Go play with your baby and teddy in the living room."

Jiyeon huffs, whines, and grumbles under her breath, but Taemin _really_ can't afford the distraction. He's trying his best to be a good dad-uncle and feed her good food. Thankfully, after he ignores her little monologue for another minute or two, Jiyeon wobbles back to the living room, dragging two dolls on the floor on each hand. She's _sulking,_ obviously, but he'll deal with that when he's done with this dumb fried rice.

Surprisingly, it doesn't take very long for him to finish cooking. The fried rice also tastes better than he thought, although it doesn't _look_ very appetizing.

"Jiyeonnie, are you hungry?" Taemin calls out as soon as he sets the food on the dining table.

He turns around to see Jiyeon sitting on the living room carpet, her two dolls abandoned at her side. She's busying herself with hitting one of his sofa cushions that she dragged to the floor while he was cooking; he personally has no clue what's so fun about that, but at least she's not crying.

Taemin kneels in front of her, waving his hand in front of her face.

"Jiyeon-ah, wanna eat?"

"No," Jiyeon pouts and stumbles away to another corner of the room, dragging the pillow cushion with her. The pillow is two times wider than her, and running was quite a struggle for her that way. Good thing she didn't fall.

"Jiyeon-ah, let's eat," Taemin follows her, only for her to run off somewhere else.

"Nooooo~" she whines as she runs away from him.

In the end, they just run in circles in the living room, Taemin chasing her as she toddles from one corner to another.

"Come on," Taemin whines. "Aren't you hungry? Uncle is _really_ hungry..."

Jiyeon stops running for a quick second, but when Taemin was about to grab her and pick her up, she giggles and runs again. Unfortunately for her, he's not ashamed of using his long, adult arms to reach her.

"Caught you!" Taemin swings her up into the air, making her laugh as the pillow falls off her hands, lips splitting in a wide, open grin. "Let's eat, now, okay? We'll play again later."

"'ka~y," she says, wrapping her tiny limbs around his neck.

He smiles. "Good girl."

-

"Daddy, up!"

"Again?"

After the dinner that thankfully didn't involve anyone choking from the taste of his food, Taemin has been stuck in his living room, playing with Jiyeon as promised. At first, he thought they were just going to play with dolls and stuff, but no, her definition of 'playing' for the night apparently involves quite a workout. She kept asking to be lifted up and spun around—he's been doing exactly that for her at least ten times, but she's not even getting tired of it.

"Daddy~" she calls again, hitting his leg while giggling.

Being incredibly weak to her soft giggles, he picks her up _one more time_ and spins five times, just for good measure, before he finally stops. He puts her down on the floor and collapses dramatically next to her, making her laugh.

"Daddy, 'ain!" Jiyeon babbles, asking him to do it _again._

"Jiyeon-ah," he turns his head to face her with a fake frown. "You're heavy, you know."

She really isn't, but he still needs a rest. Just because he used to regularly lift and spin adults in the air as part of his job, it doesn't mean he doesn't get tired from spinning a giggly baby.

Instead of humoring him and letting him rest, the girl whines, calling for 'daddy' over and over. Rolling over to the other side, he ignores her and plays dead—but she doesn't fall for it. She _chases_ him, putting her tiny hands on his arm, and tries to shake him awake.

"Daddy!!!"

She keeps trying, and he lets her shake him, hoping she'll get bored or tired. Unluckily, she doesn't get bored, and she doesn't get tired either. Just his luck.

He rolls to face her. "Are you sure you wanna go again?"

"Yeah," she says quietly, her lips spread out in a shy smile. He wonders why she's even pretending to be shy when she was powerfully shaking him just a second ago.

"You're not tired?"

She pouts and stomps her foot. "No!"

Taemin sighs, and rolls over to his other side once again. He can't wait until Jongin comes back—he will _definitely_ be demanding payment from this best friend of his for making him do this on his sleep day.

"Daddyyyy~"

"Ah! Fine!" he groans, getting up into a sitting position. He gives her a _look_ and holds up his index finger in front of her face. "Just one more, and then we'll go to sleep, okay?"

"-ay!!" The toddler cheers, immediately holding her arms out so he can pick her up.

Once again, he swings her around in the air and spins a couple times, Jiyeon giggling happily as she flies. She pouts when he puts her down, but he shakes his finger in front of her.

"Nope, that's it," he huffs, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "No more spins. Time for bed."

"Aw, no," Jiyeon furrows her eyebrows and copies him, plopping down on the floor too.

"You already said okay, Jiyeonnie," he reminds her. "Ask your daddy to spin you again tomorrow."

Her eyes cast down to the floor and the pout on her lips jut out even more. She looks like a kicked puppy, and he feels bad, but it's also nine in the evening. Toddlers should be sleeping at this hour.

"Okay, Jiyeonnie?" he repeats, getting a sad nod in return. "Good girl. Now, where did you put your baby?"

Jiyeon looks up at him for a little bit, and then points right behind him at her baby princess, who is sitting primly on the couch next to the teddy bear. He stands up to grab them and comes back to Jiyeon, making her take the dolls before he picks her up.

"Alright. Let's go to sleep."

-

Taemin isn't picking up his phone. He's not replying his texts either, and now Jongin's sitting in his car, parked in Taemin's guest parking lot, half-worried if something happened. Usually, he won't be so worried, but Taemin's with _Jiyeon._ He can't help but worry. The only times Taemin doesn't pick up his phone are when he's in the studio or when he forgets it somewhere.

With a sigh, he decides that it's better to find out for himself. He gets out of the car and locks its doors, before heading up to Taemin's apartment. The security guard at the lobby knows him, since he comes over a lot, and he easily gets buzzed into the building, going up to Taemin's floor. In a habit that's hard to break, he enters the keycode to his best friend's unit, having long since memorized them—for times exactly like this—and walks in.

"Taemin-ah?" he calls out.

Taemin's living area is empty, except for the phone laid forgotten on the coffee table.

He knew it; Taemin doesn't have his phone with him, that's why he didn't pick up. He walks further in, moving down the short hallway, following the dim light that spills out from the slightly open door of Taemin's bedroom.

Jongin pushes it quietly, until it's open wide enough for him to walk in, and he can't help but smile when he sees the sight that greets him once he steps inside the room.

Right there, on the bed, he finds two figures, softly curled together in a peaceful sleep. Jiyeon is lying on the center of the bed, her dolls abandoned behind her and her arms curled around Taemin's forearm, hugging it tightly to her chest like she's making sure he doesn't run away. And, as if that's not enough cuteness for him to handle, next to her, Taemin lies on his side, facing in her direction with his free hand still resting on top of the toddler's belly. It's obvious that he fell asleep while he was putting her to sleep, and for a moment, Jongin wonders if maybe he shouldn't have made Taemin babysit on his so-called 'sleep day'. His best friend's always so busy; he must have been tired.

But, despite everything, Taemin took great care of his little daughter anyway, if this peaceful sight in front of him is any indication. Suddenly that now-familiar light and airy feeling comes back, and his heart is starting to warm up again. As if in a trance, he takes a few quiet steps to close the distance between the door and the bed, stopping at Jiyeon's other side, finding himself unable to stop from climbing on for a closer look.

Maybe, as a father, the first thing he should be looking at from this close is his daughter. He should be checking if she's having a good sleep, or if she's having a nightmare, ready to fight the battle for her if he needs to. However, for some reason his eyes drift off towards his best friend's face instead, to study the way his long-ish hair falls over, casting shadows over his closed eyelids.

This is all so mesmerizing—so beautiful, so warm—but he can't understand why.

The hand he had absentmindedly reached out goes far past his daughter's figure—he doesn't realize what he's doing until he's brushing Taemin's hair away from his forehead, stroking it back in place. Taemin's eyes slowly flutter open at the touch, and his heart _jumps._

Pull away. Quickly. He needs to pull away.

But, even though he knows what he needs to do, his muscles aren't cooperating—and now he's sitting here, conflicted between doing what he _should_ be doing to avoid getting caught, or playing casual so he can continue stroking the soft hair threading between his fingers.

In the end, he doesn't have to make a decision, because Taemin suddenly lifts his hand, leaving its former place to reach up to his temple. Very, very softly, Taemin places his hand over his own, and tries to curl their fingers together.

"You're back," Taemin slurs with half-lidded eyes, a beautiful lethargic smile blooming on his lips.

 _Why is it so beautiful,_ his mind supplies, but he shakes it off quickly.

"Yeah, I'm back," he says instead, the words flowing more easily than he expected.

Taemin's smile grows bigger, and that voice in the back of his mind gets stunned into silence. Instead, warmth travels up and down his veins, spreading all over his body as it takes all his exhaustion away. He doesn't even remember that his muscles are screaming from exertion, that he's tired after all those classes, or that he needs to take a long, hot bath to relax—all he can feel is his heart squeezing and beating faster, faster, _faster._

"Do you need to get home?" Taemin's quiet voice resounds in the room again.

After his question, Taemin finally lets go of his hand. But strangely, now that he's free to take his hand back, Jongin misses the warmth.

"I can't move my arm, though," Taemin adds, interpreting his silence as a confirmation. His drowsy eyes glance downwards; Jongin follows his gaze to where Jiyeon is tightly holding onto him, and sighs.

"It's fine. Just let her sleep."

Taemin lets out a low hum at that and closes his eyes again, without saying another word.

Somehow, it's suddenly—or not so suddenly, because he's been doing this since he came into the room—very hard to tear his eyes away from Taemin's figure. He knows he's being kind of creepy, but he can't stop staring. Maybe it's the dim light coming from the lamps on the nightstands, or maybe he's just being strange all by himself, but it feels like a new discovery. He's seen Taemin's sleeping face a million times, and yet it has never crossed his mind to actually _look,_ to see how beautiful this sight is. It feels nice, but at the same time he realizes that this is also really weird—he _shouldn't_ be staring at his best friend when he's asleep, let alone secretly admire his looks.

"Jongin-ah."

Jongin's heart jumps again. He thought Taemin already fell back asleep. He blinks and forces his head to turn to the side so he can stop _looking,_ but while he was doing so, he realizes that Taemin's eyes are actually still closed.

Taemin didn't see anything—he didn't catch Jongin staring at him while he's sleeping. He can't help but let out a relieved sigh before he hums, letting his friend know that he's listening.

One of Taemin's eyes peek open at his watch, only for it to close again. "Take a shower and come to bed."

Jongin blanks out for a moment, unable to do anything except blink. Intentional or not, that sounded so…domestic.

Actually, this whole setting screams domestic, now that he thinks about it—with them on this bed, a sleeping toddler between them as they speak in hushed voices. It looks like it came straight out of his imaginations; just like one of his younger self's many fantasies about his future family life, about what it's like to be a father—or a _husband._

Sehun's voice comes floating in his head, reminding him about his 'perfect little family of three', and suddenly, he can't remember what or how he used to think about this whole thing. It feels like he never fully understood what Sehun was talking about—until now.

"Jongin-ah?"

"Hm?"

Taemin's voice interrupts the unintentional silence induced by his short-circuiting mind. His eyes are still closed, and his slurred words are slightly muffled by the pillow he's buried his face into, but the intent is clear.

"S'okay. Just go back in the morning."

"Um. Okay," is all he manages to say.

Taemin shifts his head a little and opens his eyes again, his two half-open orbs meeting Jongin's own, as if to ascertain his thoughts. Then, he nods, and his eyelids flutter shut.

"Good."

Taemin buries his face back into his pillow and doesn't stir awake again—not when Jongin tries shaking off the awkwardness and just go shower, nor when he climbs onto his bed later in the night, shutting off the night lights and slipping under the blankets.

Unconsciously, he rolls over to Jiyeon and Taemin's direction, to attempt to look at the sight in front of him one more time. It's dark and he can't see very well, the only source of light being the moonlight drifting in from the windows, but looking at them still has the same effect as it did before.

It's so calming. So peaceful. So warm.

When he rouses in the morning, shaken awake by his daughter, he doesn't remember when sleep claimed him. All he remembers is _that sight_ burning into his mind, lulling him into his slumber.

-

It's noisy. _Really_ noisy.

There's a heavy weight on Taemin's chest as he stirs awake, his consciousness slowly waking up due to _all the noise._ It sounds like an alarm—not his own, though, his alarm doesn't sound like that—but there's also high-pitched giggling mixed in.

"...ddy."

Jiyeon. It sounds like Jiyeon. But Jiyeon shouldn't be in his apartment—this is confusing.

"Daddy!!"

Three weak baby slaps land on his face, and that makes his eyes finally fly open. The first thing he sees is a pair of wide eyes, belonging to a certain ball of sunshine—who is doing her job way too well, now that he can see that clock behind her.

It's still seven in the morning. He shouldn't be awake at this hour. Really.

"Jiyeon?" he says, his voice sounding hoarse and bleary. "Why are you here?"

Instead of answering or responding him, Jiyeon keeps innocently slapping his cheeks; he scrunches his eyes shut again, so he doesn't get poked in the eye by her tiny fingers.

Belatedly, he puts the pieces together in his mind. There's a faint memory of him telling Jongin to stay over, but he thought all of that was a dream. He opens his eyes and turns his head sideways, only to see that the other side of the bed is empty.

Well. That explains the smell of breakfast wafting into the room.

"Daddy?"

"Mm," Taemin responds, bringing his hand up to stop Jiyeon's attacks, but only manages to catch one of her little limbs. "Stop hitting me."

Jiyeon stops at his request and laughs happily. She looks so cute that he can't help but wrap his arms around the toddler's figure, and hugs her close to his chest. He only realizes a second later that maybe he shouldn't be squeezing her too hard.

"Morning, Jiyeonnie," he says, letting her sit up. "Did you sleep well?"

Jiyeon giggles at him, babbling words he can't understand, so all he can do is hum at her and listen. Maybe she's telling him about her dreams, who knows.

The alarm shuts off on its own, having been ringing for too long, and now that he's been forcibly awakened, he might as well get out of bed. He rolls her off his torso with a quick ruffle of her hair, and sits up. After rubbing his eyes, he stands and takes Jiyeon off the bed, setting her down on the floor so she could run outside.

Taemin lethargically walks out of the bedroom and heads into the kitchen, following the smell of food and the sound of oil sizzling on a pan. Now that he's closer to its source, the smell of eggs, ham, sausages, and coffee—basically all he has in his kitchen that isn't ramyeon—invades his nostrils, much stronger than before.

"What are you doing," he yawns, directing his question to the man standing in the middle of his kitchen, already cooking stuff so early in the morning, without even bothering to ask for his permission.

"Oh, you're awake."

Jongin grins at him from where he stands, by the stove, only sparing him a glance before he puts his focus back on whatever he's cooking.

"Mmm. Your daughter slapped me awake," he mutters, making Jongin chuckle.

"I'm making eggs and stuff," Jongin says, flipping things over on the pan, before he tilts his head towards the coffee maker, in the inner corner of the kitchen. "Made you coffee, too."

"Thanks."

He pats Jongin's side when he slips past him to get to the fresh pot of coffee, and when he gets closer, he finds that Jongin actually made his favorite blend. As expected of his best friend; he knows exactly what he needs to wake himself up in the mornings. He pours himself a cup—it's still a little too hot to drink, though. His tongue almost burned after one sip.

Then, a few minutes too late, reality finally _hits_ him.

Jongin is cooking. Jongin, his best friend, whose cooking skill isn't all that different from his own, is cooking in his kitchen—and if anything, _that's_ a recipe for disaster.

"...You haven't burned any of my stuff, right?"

Taemin suspiciously peers over Jongin's shoulder, to check on his attempt of making breakfast. Thankfully, the eggs are still yellow, not black—and surprisingly, they also look nicely scrambled.

"I can do something as simple as making _eggs,_ thanks," Jongin huffs, nudging his head away with the hand he isn't using to stir things. "And I've gotten better, you know, since I got _her."_

Jongin gestures out towards Jiyeon, who is loitering around the dining table with her teddy bear, babbling and cooing at it. Taemin chuckles.

"Well. I hope it tastes decent."

"If _you_ can make food that tastes decent, I can do it too," Jongin rolls his eyes. "Just sit at the table with your coffee and wait for me, okay?"

"Okay, okay."

He can't help but laugh at that. It's just so funny that Jongin's taking offense about _cooking,_ out of all things. But, as requested by today's wannabe chef, he walks over to the dining table and takes a seat.

As he waits, he lets thoughts fly back to last night, the little pieces of memories struggling to put themselves back together. He can't remember everything clearly—he doesn't even know when he fell asleep, since the last thing he remembers is watching Jiyeon's eyes close, falling into a calm, effortless sleep.

Besides that, though, he also has a hazy memory of a warm touch on his temple, Jongin stroking his hair with a tender look on his eyes—which is the strange part. Jongin has never looked at him like that. At least, not as far as he can remember.

He's sure, though, that he would definitely remember it if it has happened before. Once upon a time, seeing Jongin look back at him with so much _affection_ was all he could have dreamed of. That's why he initially thought it was a dream, or an imagination—just one more piece of his younger self escaping from the back of his mind. But, now that he knows it _wasn't,_ that it actually happened, he can't help but start to wonder—about the 'why's and the 'how's, but more importantly, the 'if's.

 _No._ He shakes his head. He's not going to let his thoughts go there. He can't.

Jongin may be acting a little abnormal—just _look_ at him, making him coffee and breakfast in his kitchen—but it doesn't have to mean anything. Knowing him, he's probably just making up for ruining his beautifully planned sleep day by making him babysit.

"Here you go."

Jongin's voice takes him back to reality before he could spiral into his thoughts. His best friend places a plate full of breakfast food in front of him, and puts three sets of utensils down in the middle of the table, grinning at him smugly.

"Doesn't it look at _least_ decent?"

Taemin has no choice but to look at the plate, since it's right in front of him. Jongin's right, it _does_ look decent—or even _better_ than decent. First of all, the eggs are perfectly fluffy, which Taemin will never be able to pull off, and he doesn't want to admit this, but everything actually looks _delicious._ He looks up at Jongin, who is patiently waiting for him to answer his earlier question, and smiles.

"It looks delicious," he says. "Thanks, Jongin-ah."

Jongin's face brightens with his wide smile, looking obviously satisfied with how he reacted to the food. Then, with a little hum—a _really cute_ hum that makes him want to curse at his traitorously skipping heart—Jongin walks back into the kitchen for the rest of their food. He comes out with two more plates, setting them on the table before he swiftly picks Jiyeon up from the floor, making her sit on one of the dining chairs.

"Jiyeon-ah, want daddy to feed you?"

Taemin watches as Jongin waves a spoon in front of her face, until she grabs it and makes him stop.

"No," comes her very straightforward answer.

Jiyeon rejects her own father with a very serious look on her face, and Taemin can't help but laugh when Jongin's face falls, the indignant pout starting to form.

"Oooh, Jiyeon's a big girl, now," he teases, quirking up an eyebrow to egg his best friend on. "Doesn't need daddy to feed her."

Jongin kicks his leg under the table, and he groans, glaring at him from across the table. As revenge, he kicks Jongin back.

"So childish," Jongin grumbles, glaring back at him.

"You started it."

Jongin shrugs, and the three of them start eating.

"What time do you leave for work?"

Because of Jongin's question, Taemin belatedly realizes that today is Monday. He has a long day of work ahead of him, rehearsals and meetings all lined up back to back, but he had to lose two extra hours of sleep because of the noisy alarm—and because a toddler decided to abuse his face.

"Ten," he sighs. "And you're dropping Jiyeon off at daycare?"

Jongin hums his affirmation, swallowing before answering. "Yeah, after I bring her home to change. Got a meeting with a potential guest instructor at eleven."

Taemin's jaw drops. Eleven is _four hours away_ from now. They could have woken up at nine, which is when he's _supposed_ to wake up, instead of _seven_ in the morning.

"Then why did you wake me up so early?" he complains with a groan. "No, why did _you_ wake up so early? Don't you usually sleep until one, or something?"

Jongin chortles and starts full-on laughing, his laughter coming out in little huffs.

"Jiyeon woke me up even earlier, okay? It's only fair that I made her wake you up too."

"Fair? Fair means letting me sleep," Taemin pouts. "You just wanted someone to suffer with you. Admit it."

It seems that Jongin doesn't have anything else to say to that, only laughing before dropping the topic. Taemin chooses to stick to finishing his food instead, silently eating without even looking up at what Jongin and Jiyeon are doing. Silence ensues for a while, only filled by the sounds of their utensils hitting the plate and Jiyeon babbling by herself.

"This is so domestic," Jongin whispers out of nowhere, breaking the silence.

That almost made him choke on his food. He doesn't know if he was supposed to hear Jongin's words, since it's obvious that he didn't mean to say it out loud, but the sound traveled to his ears anyway. He has quite a sensitive hearing.

"Are you talking about your childhood fantasies again?" he manages to say, calmly. Nonchalantly. "I thought you left those behind when you were, what? Eight?"

"I don't know," Jongin laughs very awkwardly, shifting his eyes away and scratching his ear. "I just… got that kind of vibe. Suddenly."

Taemin's not about to overreact over a simple comment and analyze everything, but Jongin's reaction is making it a little impossible. He's obviously nervous about something—or embarrassed. He quirks his eyebrows at Jongin, waiting—and demanding—for more explanation, and in the end, Jongin glances at him, sighing.

"I was just thinking about something Sehun said," he admits.

"What did he say?"

This revelation worries him. Sehun knows a lot about him that Jongin doesn't know about—like _those feelings,_ for example. It's not like he's the type to spill secrets, but he can't help but be nervous. Jongin's much closer to Sehun than he is, after all.

"Nothing. It's not important," Jongin shakes his head and looks down at his plate, his fingers playing with the spoon in his hand. "It just… got to me and now I can't stop thinking about it."

"...Should I be worried?" he asks, just in case.

Jongin pauses, for a second too long. Maybe he really _should_ be worried.

"No, it's just a stupid comment, really," Jongin waves it off with his hand, literally and figuratively. "Anyway, are you free tomorrow or Wednesday?"

Jongin's attempt to divert his attention is so obvious. Not subtle at all.

With how weird Jongin's being today, he can't help but still be skeptical, but it's okay. He'll find out sooner or later—he always does, when it comes to Jongin. Jongin has tried to hide things from him in the past, but aside from the whole adoption thing, he'll always end up telling him everything.

"Wednesday's okay," he answers, playing along, letting himself get distracted. "Why? Gonna make me babysit again?"

"No, let's... have a movie night," Jongin says abruptly. "With Jiyeon."

"A _movie night?"_ Taemin wants to laugh. It's as if Jongin can't think of anything else to say. "You know she's just gonna fall asleep, right?"

"That's the point. It makes her sleep," Jongin huffs. "When she's asleep, we can watch the _better_ movies."

"Isn't that basically babysitting again?" he says, chuckling. "What's in it for me?"

Jongin looks at him with disbelief, probably knowing what he's _really_ asking for—a bribe, basically—and then lets out a long resigned sigh.

"Fine. I'll make you dinner," Jongin says. "And breakfast—if you end up falling asleep on my couch again."

Well, two free meals and movies sound good enough.

"The dinner better be meat," he says, a teasing smirk easily forming on his lips. "Grilling beef is the only thing you're good at."

Jongin gapes, offended. "Hey. I cooked that food you're eating right now."

"I never said it tasted good," Taemin laughs.

That's a lie. They both know it, judging from the distrustful look in Jongin's eyes, but it doesn't stop Jongin from grumbling anyway.

"I'm never cooking for you again."

Taemin can't help the laughter that bubbles up at his throat. The formerly weird atmosphere finally goes back to normal when Jiyeon tugs at Jongin's shirt, looking up at him with food all over her face.

"Daddy," she starts, before she babbles unrecognizable words at Jongin. She points at her plate, and well, it's empty. Taemin can't tell if she's asking for more food or just saying she's done, though.

"Ohh, you're finished?" Jongin coos, reaching for a napkin to wipe off her face. "Such a good girl, appreciating daddy's food—unlike your uncle Taeminnie over there."

The napkins are closer to Taemin's side of the table, so he helps pull one out and hands it over, despite the petty jab directed at him.

"She just doesn't want to make you feel bad," he retorts. "Don't worry, Jiyeon-ah. Uncle Taeminnie will take you out for _real_ food next time. I bet your dad only feeds you chicken."

Jongin turns towards him and smirks.

"Does that mean you're bringing the food on Wednesday?"

Taemin huffs and rolls his eyes. "Next _next_ time, then."

Jongin laughs as he continues wiping the little girl's face and her greasy hands, and well, for some reason, he ends up laughing too.

-

Later, when Jiyeon has set off to play in the living room and left the two adults to deal with washing the dishes, Jongin suddenly says another random comment.

"This is nice," his best friend says as he stands next to him, drying off the plates he already finished washing.

He pauses what he's doing and raises a questioning eyebrow at Jongin.

"...You like washing dishes?"

"What?" Jongin laughs, and shakes his head. "No. It's just… I'm really happy right now."

That's a weird confession. He looks at his friend and studies his face, carefully looking for any signs, but he can't find anything. He has so many questions he wants to ask, but Jongin clearly doesn't want to talk about it, not with how vague he's being. Maybe he'll call Sehun later and see what he knows about this. There's one very important question he can't save for later, though.

"That's… good, right?"

Now that the question is out, it actually sounds kind of stupid, but Jongin answers without a pause.

"Of course," his best friend lets out a low laugh. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Taemin shrugs, then goes back to washing the remaining dishes.

"Well, if that's the case, I guess I'm happy too," he says, and it's the truth.

He is happy, perfectly content with where he is now and what he has. Everything is going fine; it feels natural, like all the stray pieces of his life are finally falling into place after taking a long, long detour.

"That's good, right?"

Jongin returns his question back at him with a teasing tone, and for that, he deserves an elbow to his ribs—but only because Taemin's hands are occupied by the dishes. The little groan Jongin lets out is _satisfying._

Neither of them speak again, until Jongin calls for his attention.

"Hey."

He looks up, and what he sees there catches him off guard. Jongin looks into his eyes with the same tender look he remembers from his faint memory of last night, and the gentle smile that graces his lips only multiplies its effect on him by a hundred times. It makes him panic inside—he wants to look away, avoid Jongin's gaze, but he _can't._

He watches and waits as Jongin opens his mouth—only for him to close it again, shaking his head.

"Nah. Never mind."

The fond smile that lingers on Jongin's lips as he turns away leaves so many questions at its wake—more questions to add to his already long list from earlier, and all of them desperately needing answers.

However, another part of him is glad that Jongin didn't end up saying anything. Just the _look_ on his face is already making that tiny spark of hope in the back of his mind grow _so fast_ that he can barely catch up—if he used words to go along with it, he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself anymore, not before it's too late.

So, despite his curiosity, he shrugs it all off. He'll keep his questions to himself.

"You're being weird today," he says instead, putting the last freshly-washed dish in front of Jongin for him to dry.

Jongin stills. And then he chuckles.

"Yeah. I guess I am," Jongin says. "It's nothing bad, though. Don't worry."

He looks at his best friend, and he snorts. "Who's worried?"

"You," Jongin deadpans, smirking at him. "I know you're worried even if you don't say it."

Well, it's more of a mix between worry and something else, but he can let Jongin think what he wants to think. "Fine. Just tell me if anything bad happens."

Jongin hums, and they leave it at that.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, it's me again 6v6
> 
> I don't have much to say about this chapter, besides it being hard to write because of too much fluff. Jongin's happy (and _slowly_ growing smarter), Taemin's kind of happy with himself, and Jiyeon's still the smartest one there despite being a toddler. Overall, I'd say this is the happiest chapter yet, so please enjoy and let me know what you think! Also, as always, thanks for reading and sticking around ♡


	4. Chapter 4

_It's Friday, a little past midnight. Or is it Saturday? Taemin doesn't know anymore._

_All the lights in the studio are off, shut down when everyone else left two hours ago. His only source of light is from outside the large windows, bright street lamps filtering in through the glass and reflecting on the mirrored walls—but it's enough, because he doesn't need light to know what he's doing. He also doesn't need to see his own reflection in the mirror; he already knows what he looks like—he looks exhausted, he looks tired, and well, he looks alone, because he is. There's nobody else in the room, nor in the building._

_Normally, he wouldn't have been alone, but tonight he is, and he is fine with that._

_Just to feel a burn in his muscles, he's been working on the same turn for the hundredth, maybe thousandth time, drilling it into his mind, his body, every fiber of his being. His muscles are screaming, his heart is threatening to rip out of its cage, and it's painful, but at least, the feeling can overshadow other things—other, more painful, things, that he wants to forget. His body moves through the routine on autopilot. He spins across the floor, and propels himself into the air, forgetting, for a split second, that no one is there to catch him._

_Without anyone to break the fall, he succumbs to gravity and tumbles to the floor, his legs refusing to move fast enough in the time it took him to realize, once again, that he is alone. He winces at the pain on the side of his leg, and he was about to drag himself off the floor when suddenly, all the lights in the room switch on._

_It's blinding. On reflex, he closes his eyes. He's not used to the brightness—not after being in the dark for so long._

_"Hey. You okay?"_

_With a struggle, he lets himself open his eyes just enough to see a tall, gangly figure peering down at him._

_Ah. It's Sehun._

_Taemin doesn't know what he's doing here, but he shouldn't be here. Everyone should have left hours ago. No one was supposed to see him crash and fall like that. He was alone._

_"Yeah, I'm fine," he grimaces and pulls himself up to his feet._

_His leg hurts more than he thought. It's probably going to bruise by tomorrow morning. He's gonna have to think of an excuse. Things like this never escapes Jongin's notice, and he can already hear him freak out, scolding him for being too careless when practicing as if he doesn't do the exact same thing._

_"You sure you're okay?" Sehun's tone sounds nonchalant, but with the way he insists on asking, Taemin knows he is genuinely worried. "I can go grab the first aid kit."_

_"It's fine. Nothing's broken," he sighs as he goes to the corner where he keeps his stuff. After he grabs his water bottle, he slumps to the floor and rests his back against the cold mirror. "Why are you still here? I thought everyone left."_

_"I left something at the lounge," Sehun shrugs, following him to the corner. "Why are_ you _still here? I saw you. You weren't working on your solo."_

_It's his turn to shrug, because he has nothing else to say. Even though he does have a solo part to practice—just a tiny part _—h_ e was working on the duet instead; the one he's going to perform with Jongin. _

_"Jongin's not around tonight?"_

_"He has a date."_

_That's the only reason he's here, working on a duet piece alone. Anyway, if Jongin was around, Taemin wouldn't have fallen ungracefully like he did. He would have caught him before he could even touch the floor._

_"Oh," Sehun plops down on the floor next to him, and leans against the mirror. "With that songwriter guy?"_

_To be more exact, it's the 'tall and handsome' songwriter guy—the one Jongin's been dating for about six months now._

_"It's a big night," he answers, hoping he sounds casual enough. "He said they might… you know. Sleep together. Tonight"_

_Sehun whistles. "That explains why he's been jittery all day."_

_Taemin tries to chuckle, but it sounds wrong in his head._

_"Yeah. It's his first time dating a guy, so..."_

_Sure, Jongin's dated other people before. He always gets a little bitter over it, but usually it fades in a couple months—except the first time, and this one. It's not because he doesn't approve of Jongin's boyfriend, or anything. In fact, he's really nice—a genuinely good guy, although he's a little too loud for Taemin's taste. He takes care of Jongin really well, and the most important thing, is that Jongin's happy with him. There's nothing else he could say or do besides give them his full blessing._

_The root of his pain is in the fact that Jongin is actually dating a man, this time. It's not that it's a surprise, because Jongin has had crushes on guys before, but seeing them together only seems to emphasize the fact that he couldn't have him._

_"Really? Wow. Wouldn't have figured." Sehun snorts._

_Taemin pauses in his thoughts. "That's a surprise. Most people think he's straight."_

_Sehun looks at him in disbelief._

_"How?"_

_"He's only dated two girls before. Never been with a guy, ever," Taemin tries to explain. "I mean, he's liked guys too, in the past—although nothing ever happened there—but not a lot of people know this."_

_By 'not a lot of people', he actually means he's the only one who knows—because he knows Jongin never told anyone else about his huge crush on that senior from college days, nor the one on that cute teacher's assistant from freshman year._

_Sehun falls silent and avoids his eyes, looking out into the room._

_"Well, in my defense," the other dancer begins casually. "The first time I met him, he was with you. That's why I figured he wasn't a hundred percent straight."_

_He frowns, tilting his head. "What does that have to do with anything?"_

_"Have you seen the way you guys move when you dance together? The way you look at each other?" Sehun shrugs. "With all that chemistry, I assumed you were dating and just wanted to keep it under wraps."_

_Taemin chokes._

_"No._ No." _he repeats, emphasizing the denial. "Jongin and I are not—have never dated. Ever."_

_"I know," Sehun says, but he also gives him a look. One that makes it very obvious that he's waiting for an elaboration of some sort, as if he knows that there's more to the story._

_He sighs. He needs to talk to someone, and if Sehun is offering to listen, he'll take it._

_"Jongin, he… doesn't see me that way," he starts, looking up at the ceiling. "I'm his best friend, and he's mine. And well, if it's dance… We have been dancing together for a long time. Nobody knows him better than I do—not when it comes to dance."_

_They've been dancing together since they were six—when they saw people dance on TV and decided to beg their parents to let them join that one dance class together. He's been with Jongin even before that—since they were babies. He may not be able to remember those moments, but pictures don't lie, and his parents have so many pictures of them as babies. He can't help but smile as the memories float into his mind._

_"But you do." Sehun's voice cuts into his mind. "You_ do, _don't you?_ You _see him that way."_

_He stills._

_Sehun's words sound more like a statement than a question, and he doesn't know what to say. He's not sure if he could trust Sehun enough to tell him that he's literally in love with his own best friend. He hasn't known the other man long enough _—barely more than a year _—__ and he also doesn't usually talk to him when Jongin's not around. He doesn't know him as well as Jongin does, and he doesn't know if he should lie, or if he should admit it—he doesn't know. _

_"That's why you're here alone," Sehun continues, not waiting for him to confirm anything. He's observing him and muttering his findings out loud, almost like he's talking to himself. "And so late at night, too. Were you planning on staying here until_ dawn?"

_Taemin sighs. There's no point in hiding things. Sehun's already seen him like this, anyway. He saw him fall, and that's a privilege in itself because besides his past coaches and mentors, only two people had seen him fall that hard._

_"That's how I cope," he smiles wryly, glancing towards the tall windows in front of him. "It's how I get over... it."_

_He waves his hand in the air, as a vague gesture to describe 'it', and Sehun scoffs._

_"By pushing yourself so hard you collapse on the floor?"_

_"I slipped," he huffs indignantly._

_He did not collapse on the floor. It was just exhaustion taking a toll on his body and his mind—that's why he jumped as if someone would catch him, and that's why he couldn't stabilize himself in time before the fall._

_Silence ensues. For a second, Taemin thinks Sehun will finally move on and stop talking about it, but he's wrong._

_"You never told him?" Sehun's voice echoes again in the room._

_"That doesn't matter."_

_Sehun pauses. And then he turns to face him, gaping, as if he's taken offense to the fact that Taemin could ever think of such a thing. He gets that look a lot. From Kibum, from his other friends—from everyone who_ knows, _really._

 _"Of course it does. You're… you." he insists. "I haven't known either of you that long, but I know he'd drop the_ world _for you."_

_"I know."_

_He can't help the wry chuckle that bubbles up in his throat. He finds it funny, sometimes, that this is how people think of his relationship with Jongin. Everyone and their neighbors know how important they are to each other—how important Jongin is to him—but Jongin himself never bothered to look at him properly. If that's not funny, he doesn't know what is._

_"Then why…?"_

_Why._

_It's such a simple question for other people to ask, and he has an equally simple answer for them in return. He's scared. He doesn't want things to change. That's all there is to it. However, nobody ever understands just how deep-rooted his fears are. They don't get it, because they never experienced it._

_See, he doesn't remember living without Jongin. Literally. He can't remember_ not knowing _him. Honestly, he can't even remember the first time they met; they were already best friends even in his earliest memory—the only memory he has from when he was in kindergarten._

_This is why a simple advice like 'just tell him' is scary. He knows his feelings are unrequited, and he knows that things would change if Jongin ever finds out—not in a good way. It will be awkward, because he knows Jongin will try to compensate, and in the process he will lose Jongin for good. The semblance of a comfortable friendship that they currently have will crumble; his whole world would disappear, and he doesn't know how to live without Jongin._

_"Look," he sighs. "I don't want Jongin to drop his world for me. If I tell him, I'll just ruin our friendship."_

_Sehun pauses._

_"I don't get it," he says, eventually. "Are you saying you'll never tell him? Even if he breaks up with this guy—you still won't say anything?"_

_"Maybe someday," Taemin says, after a long time. He fiddles his fingers, his eyes stubbornly focused on a knuckle on his left hand. "Not now, but eventually. We don't keep secrets from each other for very long."_

_He just hopes that Jongin will either figure it out before he tells him—like he somehow does with every other thing he's ever hidden from him—or that he'll be over it by the time he ever says anything, so that the conversation could go in a more stupid, nostalgic way, like 'hey, did you know I was in love with you back in the day?'_

_Obviously, he prefers the latter. The first option seems like an impossible scenario—and that's without the hope of Jongin considering to return his feelings._

_"You're stupid. You're_ both _stupid," Sehun states, matter-of-factly. "You don't want him to drop his world for you, but you're basically dropping yours for him. I can't describe that with any other word besides stupid."_

_"Thanks for telling me how stupid I am three times in one sentence," Taemin laughs, almost derisively, at himself. "It's fine. I'm happy as long as Jongin's happy."_

_That's a lie. Actually, seeing Jongin happy—without him—is the hardest part of all this. But he's used to the pain, and he's used to making do with what he already has. Greed only brings unpleasant situations, and he doesn't want to have to learn his lesson the hard way._

_"I wish we never had this conversation," Sehun speaks again, after a moment of silence. "Now that I know about it, I'm getting frustrated. Really frustrated. You guys are impossible."_

_Taemin laughs, but this time it's actually in good humor. Sehun's words remind him of what Kibum used to say whenever he kicked himself out of his and Jongin's shared dorm back in college, so Jongin can have his girlfriend over._

_"Kibum always tells me the same thing," he says, more to himself than to Sehun, since he doesn't even know if Sehun knows who Kibum is. He gets up with a little wince, carefully reminding himself to not put pressure on his leg, and looks down at the younger man. "But you never know. Maybe I'll finally get my turn someday, and your frustration won't be in vain."_

_He probably won't, but joking about it always lightens the mood, and stops them from taking his feelings too seriously. It works with Kibum, at least._

_"Well, I sure hope so," Sehun snorts. "Both for your sake, and for my own sanity."_

-

At precisely four p.m. on Wednesday, Taemin's phone vibrates.

_Beef or pork for dinner?_

The message syncs to his laptop too, persistently appearing on the upper edge of the screen, covering his long document of notes. He dismisses the first notification, but they just keep coming—so he silences it. He turns off the notifications on his laptop—and shuts his phone off as well. Right now, the dancers in front of him need his attention more than Jongin's texts do. Next week is the opening night for the last showcase in the spring program, and there's still _so much_ to improve. It's stressing him out, honestly—but that's good. That means he doesn't have as much time to stress about other stuff.

He continues taking notes, quietly typing them down into his computer in fast strokes as he watches for mistakes or spots that need some work. He doesn't stop them until two hours later, when they've finished the first run.

"Get some water," he says to the room full of heaving dancers, speaking for the first time after he told them to start two and a half hours ago. "Take a break and be back in fifteen for notes."

Everyone immediately disperses into all directions to go find their things. Some leave the room, and some stay inside, plopping onto the floor one by one in the corners of the room.

Now that he has some time, he finally turns his phone back on, to find the last few texts Jongin left him.

 _You got caught up in work didn't you,_ reads the first text. It arrived only fifteen minutes ago, and another one comes in right as he reads the other ones.

_Lmk if you can't make it_

Shit. Just yesterday, he told Jongin he'd be done before six—and now it's five minutes _past_ six, and he's not even halfway through the rehearsal.

He walks out of the studio and heads to a quieter place, somewhere he could be alone instead of being scrutinized by all his dancers. He winds up in the emergency staircase—it's been his and Jongin's spot since they first got here years ago—and presses call on Jongin's contact as soon as he's made sure he's alone.

"Hey, Taem—"

"Jonginnie, I'm _so_ sorry. I can't make it," he apologizes immediately, not even letting Jongin greet him properly. "I'm still in rehearsal. Won't be out for at least another three hours."

Jongin sighs audibly through the phone, but he doesn't say anything else. He probably knew this was going to happen already, when Taemin ignored all his texts.

"It's fine. I get it," Jongin says. "I guess we'll just have to eat all these beef without you, then."

Jongin's teasing tone sounds so forced that it makes him feel bad.

"I'm sorry. Rehearsals aren't going as well as I expected," he says with a sigh. "I probably won't have time to hang out until after opening night."

Jongin doesn't speak for a few seconds. Taemin is sure that he can hear the worry and stress behind his words, and he is taking his time to figure out what's best to say.

"It will be okay, Taemin-ah," Jongin's deep voice resounds from the other end of the line. "The show will be great. Everything will be fine. You have nothing to worry about."

True, he has nothing to worry about, not when it comes to the show. There's a lot to fix, but they eventually _will_ be fixed—and within the next week, as one last sprint before the show officially opens.

However, eighty percent of his worries in the past couple of days aren't even _about_ the performance he's directing. When it comes to _these_ worries—well, he's not sure if he can ever stop worrying about them.

It's only gotten worse, actually, after he texted Sehun on Monday night to figure out what's happening. _I didn't say anything. Just told him you guys look like a perfect family, and that he should think about dating you,_ was all Sehun told him. He also said something along the lines of _make your move_ and _you actually have a chance now, you know_ but he's going to pretend he never read those texts. Everything and everyone are trying to get his hopes up; he hates it because he doesn't _want_ to.

"I have to get back to rehearsal," he says, after not saying anything for a while.

His mood is more somber now, because of the unintentional thoughts in his mind. He hopes the dancers don't catch on it when he gets back—they already think he's intimidating for some reason, and he doesn't want to seem even more unapproachable.

Jongin hums. "Good luck. You'll do a great job."

He can't help but smile at the encouragement. He wonders if Jongin knows that he has this effect on him. It's way too easy to let Jongin lift his mood with a single phrase, even though he just made it drop with another phrase a couple seconds prior.

"Thanks. Enjoy your father-daughter movie night," he says. Then he adds, "Make Jiyeon watch Barbie Swan Lake for me."

Jongin laughs at that.

"Yes, yes, I will make sure to introduce her to your favorite ballet of all time," Jongin teases, and Taemin can see him roll his eyes even though he can't see his face. "I swear, she'll probably have the music memorized by the time she turns five."

"Like they all say, it's best to start early," he teases back.

Jongin's giggle turns louder, and he doesn't stop his own laughter from slipping past his lips. His previously gloomy mood is swinging up _way_ too easily after this short banter with Jongin. Although he loves the way Jongin so effortlessly calmed his worries—he made him forget about them for a minute—he also hates it. It's not Jongin's fault or anything—he just hates himself for being so _easy._

He hangs up after Jongin says his goodbye, and goes back to the studio. All the dancers watch with bated breath as he takes his seat at the table. Honestly, he doesn't know why they're all so scared of him. He never wanted to come off as a strict, aloof, mysterious director when he first took the job.

He sighs. "Alright, then. Let's start with notes."

-

"Hey. I rescheduled tomorrow's interview to the morning like you asked," Kibum says, walking into Taemin's office right before clocking out.

Taemin only gives him a glance and a smile before shifting his focus back to his computer screen. He has extra rehearsals to oversee in the afternoon, so he had to push all his other schedules and finish them before then.

"Thanks, hyung."

Kibum waves it off. He continues further into the room and stops in front of his desk, propping his hands on one of the chairs there, leaning forward. "You're not going to the studio?"

"After I finish up with this." Taemin cocks his head towards the pile of stuff on his desk and his computer.

He has some contracts to review and sign—from venues for the next seasons, and for some commissions from festival presenters—and there are also some adjustments he has to make for their performances in the summer. He doesn't _have_ to do them right now, at least not all of them, and there are other people in the staff with skills to do some of the less important things, but he needs to keep himself busy.

He's also in the middle of a _long_ email conversation with a composer he's trying to commission to make a piece for the Fall program—which is honestly more fun and distracting than signing papers, because it takes a bit more brain power. While paperwork is important, it doesn't take his mind away from personal life problems as much as scrutinizing choreography and discussing music that _fits_ his vision with stubborn, yet intelligent composers. If he doesn't keep his mind busy, he'll have time to think, and he doesn't really _want_ to think. He's been thinking too much in the past couple of days, since the thing that happened the last time he saw Jongin; he couldn't even _sleep_ yesterday night because he spent his time thinking. It's not doing him any good.

He must have fallen silent for a little too long, because Kibum _noticed._

"What did Jongin do this time?"

The older man pulls up the chair he's been leaning on and sits on it. He's staring at him intently, waiting, and he looks like he's staying until he knows what's up.

He avoids Kibum's gaze. "Not _all_ my problems are Jongin's fault, hyung."

"Sure, but ones that get you like… _this—"_ Kibum gestures in the air at his direction, emphasizing his point. "—usually _have_ to do with Jongin. I've known you guys for years, Taemin-ah. You can't lie to me."

That silences him. Kibum's right, he can't hide things from him. It's useless. He might as well just talk to him.

"It's nothing," he begins. "It's just… Jongin's been confusing, lately."

"Go on."

"He's been acting weird, but also _not_ weird, at the same time— I can't explain it," he runs his fingers through his bangs and pushes it back, sighing in frustration. "I don't know. He's been treating me so… gently, for some reason, and keeps saying a lot of random stuff. Something's going on in his mind that I can't figure out yet."

Something related to what Sehun told Jongin—and ever since he found out what Sehun said, he's been trying to knock it off his mind. Thinking about it just makes him hope for too much. Again. It's scary.

"Anyway, I don't know. I just… I don't think I'm as _over him_ as I thought I was."

There it is. It's the first time he admitted it, out loud, to anyone—even to himself. His severe attempt of staying in denial isn't convincing himself anymore, let alone Kibum, who's been repeatedly pointing it out for so long.

Kibum stares at him, for a silent minute that feels like forever before he finally breaks the silence.

"Okay. So?" the older man says, with an eyebrow arched. "I don't see your problem."

"I'm still _in love_ with him, hyung. That's a _problem."_

He _hates_ it—this whole situation. He hates feeling like _this_ again. He's tired of being scared, of hoping, and of being let down. He hates it. He hates falling, knowing nobody will be there to catch him. So he doesn't want to think about it. He wants to run away from all of it.

Kibum rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"I disagree," Kibum refutes. Then, he continues matter-of-factly. "Jongin isn't married, nor is he dating. And he's not _in love_ with anyone either, at least, not that I know of. It's not like all the other times you have this 'problem'—" In frustration, Kibum emphasizes the words with air-quotes and another eye roll. "—this time, he isn't emotionally unavailable."

Taemin grunts. "That doesn't mean anything."

"Of _course_ it does. It means you can _finally_ get off your ass and _ask him out properly,_ for once," Kibum groans exasperatedly. "There are no obstacles. He's single, he likes guys, his daughter _loves_ you, and you're the closest thing he has to a potential partner. There. Is. No. Problem."

He looks down at his fingers, resting on top of the computer keyboard, and retracts them closer to his body instead, eyes fixed on them as he fidgets.

"...I just don't wanna get my hopes up," he says in a quiet murmur. "I'm not doing that again. It never works out. Not for me."

Jongin may be acting a little strange—with all the weird looks and the soft touches—but it's not all that different from how he usually treats him. The chance of him doing things without any huge meaning behind it is much bigger than the alternative. Things have never worked out in his favor. It's not meant to be. Keeping things as it is, just like what he's doing now, is the best course of action.

He's happy. He's content. His life is perfectly falling into place. And he's fine with telling himself this every time. No matter how unconvincing it sounds—or how much his mind screams _'this isn't enough'_ at him.

"Then _move on,"_ Kibum's stern voice cuts the pause in their conversation. "Date someone else."

He scoffs. "I did, remember? Didn't work out."

"Of course not," Kibum huffs. "You didn't actually _like_ him."

A memory from a couple years ago flashes into his mind, and he suddenly feels a little offended by that statement.

"I _did_ like Baekhyun," he purses his lips. "He was really nice to me."

"Sure. But be honest, you only did it because Jongin set up the first date," Kibum snorts. "How long did it even last? Three months?"

"Longer," Taemin sighs. "Five months. Almost six."

Almost six months _—_ half a year _—_ but they only went on five, maybe six, dates, made out a couple times, and nothing else.

Sure, at first he only went to meet Baekhyun because Jongin set them up, but he kept seeing him because he genuinely liked him. Until now, Taemin still regrets how he treated him back then. He kept holing up in the dance studio all the time, ignoring his relationship and prioritizing his first big solo feature over it. It was no surprise that Baekhyun chose to back off and support him from a distance instead, after he made it perfectly clear that dance will _always_ come first.

It's silly, now that he thinks about it. What a wasted opportunity. Baekhyun was a good man—he treated him really well, showering him with affection and all that fluff. It may not be love, at least not for him, but the older man made him very happy during the months they dated.

Kibum sighs. "You _can_ try again, you know. You just don't want to."

"Well, it's not like I have anyone to date."

"Anyone _else,_ you mean?" Kibum points out. "Look. I _personally_ don't think Jongin deserves you after all you've been through, but he's the one guy you've _always_ loved. You have _him."_

"Jongin doesn't count," he says, and tries to dodge the topic. "Hyung, I like you. Do _you_ wanna date me?"

"Don't bother. Spend your energy on asking _Jongin_ out instead," Kibum shakes his head, not falling for his distraction attempt. "'Jonginnie, I like you. Do you wanna date me?' Simple, isn't it? Exactly the same words, to a different person. It will be _just_ like asking me."

He looks at the older man for a long time, and sighs. "You know it's not as simple as that."

"I know," Kibum lets out a long sigh, and there's a pause in the air before he talks again, his voice taking a more serious tone. "I'm just trying to tell you that you should go for it. Right now. When you actually have a chance."

Taemin shakes his head silently. Kibum leans forward on his chair, rests his elbows on his desk, and looks him straight in the eye.

"You've been in love with him for so long, Taemin-ah," Kibum continues. "You should at least tell him once. You never know, right? Maybe Jongin will give it a try."

"I can't."

They've been friends for more than thirty years. He can't ruin that by telling Jongin all this—that he's been in love with him for half his life, and that by not returning his feelings for all that time, Jongin's been unintentionally hurting him for so many years. It will _ruin_ him. It will ruin Jongin. It will ruin _them._

"You know what? I knew you'd say that," Kibum groans. "Seriously. I have no idea why I still bother talking to you when I already know how stubborn you are."

"It's because you love me, Kibummie-hyung," he dares to let a small smile fall his lips, and Kibum rolls his eyes.

"Nope. I don't care anymore. Suffer alone for the rest of your life."

"You know you won't let that happen."

Kibum stares at him for a moment, before he lets out a very dramatic sigh.

"Well, I'm still the nicest guy on Earth, unfortunately," Kibum gets up to his feet and dusts off his pants as if Taemin's office chair was dirty. "But you're hopeless, so I'm leaving."

"Drive safely," he calls out as Kibum moves towards the door to actually leave. "And can you not tell Minho that I tried to ask you out?"

Kibum laughs and stops right before walking out the door. "Don't worry. I'm _definitely_ telling him."

"Wait—"

"You need someone to beat some sense into your thick head _—_ " Kibum smirks and whirls around with a wave. " _—s_ o good luck with that. Bye!"

_"Hyung!"_

-

Sometimes, Jongin regrets his life choices.

He should have known better than to bring Jiyeon to his studio that afternoon. He should have known better than to leave her with his phone, and he should have known better than to leave her in Sehun's care while he goes off to the restroom for _five minutes._

The moment he _knew_ he should have known better, was when he walks back into their little staff lounge slash office to hear one extra familiar voice besides Sehun's sniggering and his daughter's excited attempt of a conversation with someone on the phone.

It's Taemin's voice, of course. He doesn't even have to get closer to recognize that huffy laughter. He can even _imagine_ how his face looks; his cheeks gathering up into two little round balls beneath his eyes, which crinkle into a pair of crescents.  _It's cute._

But then again, it wouldn't matter even if he didn't recognize the voice, because the teasing glint in Sehun's eyes gives _everything_ away.

"What did you do?" he asks suspiciously.

"I didn't do anything," Sehun shrugs. Jongin's reluctant to believe him, though. His grin can't be trusted. "Really. She just pressed some buttons and somehow started a video call."

Jongin sighs. He _really_ should have known. If she can recognize the button for her favorite coloring game—or whatever it is she keeps playing on his phone—then maybe she can recognize the call button too. Everything's possible, at this point. His daughter is better as using his phone than he is, anyway—even when she's only pressing random buttons.

He looks at the sofa, where Jiyeon sits next to Sehun, animatedly babbling to the camera with a sunny grin. She looks so happy to see Taemin, even if only through a phone screen. She's been _begging_ him to go see her 'daddy' so many times in the past few days, but he didn't let her. Taemin clearly said that he's busy with work, they can't just disturb his focus like that. He even had to refrain from texting him updates on all the random stuff Jiyeon did; the ones he sent because he couldn't help himself were left unread, so he stopped for a while.

"You know you could have stopped her, right?" he talks to Sehun again, sitting down on the couch by Jiyeon's other side. "What if she called someone else?"

"Well, it _wasn't_ someone else. Plus, I didn't think he'd pick up."

"Can you guys stop talking about me like I can't hear you?" Taemin's voice crackles through the speakers, silencing Jiyeon's little monologue. "I have some time. Well, I have five minutes until people start wondering where I am and why I'm not in rehearsal, but they'll wait for me."

Jongin looks at the clock on the wall. It's fifteen past five; Taemin's probably supposed to be in the studio fifteen minutes ago. He sighs. His eyes drift to the phone screen, unable to resist from looking on, but he regrets it almost immediately.

Taemin is sitting on the steps of a staircase—the emergency staircase, _their_ staircase—and he's smiling really brightly, just as he pictured in his mind. His hair is falling all over his face, and he can see some strands messily floating upwards. Jongin's fingers _itch_ to stroke his hair, recalling how soft they feel on his skin—although he doesn't know if he wants to put them back in place or mess it up even further.

In his distraction, he fails to notice how Sehun is looking at him—his grin firmly in place, as if he knows something _Jongin_ doesn't. It also doesn't completely register in his mind that Taemin is looking back at him with worry, or something else.

"Don't worry, Jongin-ah," Taemin's voice echoes into the room. "They won't fire me for missing the first thirty minutes of rehearsal. I do this all the time."

He shakes off all the distraction from his mind and grumbles instead. "Because you have meetings. Not because a toddler accidentally called you."

Taemin laughs.

"It's okay. I'll say it's an emergency call with a VIP," his best friend says lightheartedly. He's saying whatever he wants again—classic Taemin. "And it's not like I'm lying. Jiyeonnie is a VIP. Right, Jiyeonnie? Are you a VIP?"

"Yea!" Jiyeon agrees excitedly, even though she probably has no clue what Taemin is saying.

"Good girl. My Jiyeonnie can call me anytime," Taemin grins at the camera, which is currently directed at Jiyeon's little chubby face. "If daddy doesn't let you call me, just get Uncle Sehunnie to steal his phone, okay?"

"Yah. Don't teach my daughter weird things." He snatches the phone from Jiyeon's hands—to her dismay—so he can glare at Taemin, who only smirks at him playfully through the camera lens.

Suddenly, he feels a burning urge to take a screenshot of Taemin's face—but he doesn't, because that's just weird.

"I'm just saying you should stop worrying," Taemin tells him, after a moment. "When I'm busy I usually don't pick up anyway."

"But you _have_ been busy," Jongin can't stop the pout that's forming on his lips when he recalls all the ignored texts he sent to Taemin in the past couple of days. "You don't even read my texts, let alone reply them. How come you answer when Jiyeon is calling?"

Taemin gets visibly stunned into silence, in front of the camera.

Okay—that actually sounded more childish than he intended. Even in his own ears, he sounded like a whiny spoiled child complaining because he didn't get attention. He's embarrassed of himself too—he can already feel his cheeks turning as red as a ripened tomato, and that's _before_ he notices Sehun wiggling his eyebrows at him.

"Uh, I…" Taemin trails off, blinking absently. He takes a short moment to himself and clears his throat, his lips curving into a teasing grin in a split second. It's not a good sign for Jongin. "Are you jealous of your own daughter?"

He saw this coming already, but he still chortles. "I—who's _jealous?"_

"You, obviously," Sehun chimes in, and Jongin wants to kick his shin.

"Don't worry, Jongin-ah. You're still my best friend, even though your daughter is cuter than you," Taemin laughs, that same easy laugh that never fails to make his heart pound in recent days. "Anyway. I need to go. Let me say bye to Jiyeonnie."

Still red in the face, he—reluctantly—hands the phone over to his daughter, who quickly grabs it with a big pout. Apparently, she's still holding a grudge because he took the phone away earlier.

Taemin talks to her and somehow coaxes her into letting him hang up—Jongin still thinks the fact that she gets along so well with Taemin is a miracle, considering his history with babies—and after one last 'bye' from his best friend, the line goes dead.

No words are exchanged in the room for a while, until Sehun finally lets out the one word he's been—very obviously—holding back from saying.

"Married."

"Shut up," Jongin cuts off sternly, glaring at his friend.

Between them, Jiyeon's eyes flicker from his direction to Sehun's, before settling back on his face.

"Shad'ap?" she echoes with a big smile, looking up at him with her wide eyes, and he _panics._

"No—no, Jiyeonnie, you can't say that," he wheezes, "It's bad. _Bad._ Never say that."

Sehun has the nerve to laugh when he tries to tell her to _forget he ever said anything._

She nods, and then knits her eyebrows together, before pointing her little index finger at him. "Daddy bad."

"Yes, yes, daddy was bad," Jongin sighs. "I'm sorry. For saying bad words."

Sehun's laughter only grows louder, and then he taps Jiyeon's shoulder, getting her attention.

"Jiyeon-ah, you should tell your other daddy about this later," his friend suggests, even though it's unlikely that Jiyeon understands anything he says. "Your daddy here needs to get punished for being a _bad boy."_

Sehun _dares_ to quirk his eyebrows suggestively at him when he says that, and Jongin wants to explode—from embarrassment or from anger, he has no idea.

_"Shut up, Oh Sehun."_

Jiyeon turns to his direction again and hits his stomach. "Daddy, bad!!"

"Hear that? No bad words, Daddy Jonginnie!" Sehun cackles, ruffling Jiyeon's hair in support. "If you say bad words again, we'll tell Daddy Taeminnie!"

He grabs a pillow cushion from behind him and throws it in Sehun's face to shut him up.

"By the way, Taemin said to bring Jiyeon to opening night," Sehun says, after he finally calms down from all the laughter. "He said it before you came back. Told her to come."

Jongin frowns. "You sure? Toddlers usually aren't allowed in the audience."

"I'm sure the artistic director's _daughter_ gets special privileges," Sehun says, with special emphasis on the word 'daughter'.

Jongin dismisses his friend's attempt on teasing him—giving Sehun the time of day will just make things worse for him.

"Well, I was about to ask if I could bring her anyway, so that solves the problem," he says instead. "Are _you_ going?"

"I got the invite, so yeah, probably," Sehun shrugs casually. Then, he adds, "But if you're going to make me babysit while you and Taemin make out in the green room—well, don't."

Jongin chokes on his own saliva, and his cheeks are heating up _again._ Sehun really needs to shut up.

"Can you not say weird things in front of my daughter?" he puts some effort into calming down, but the fluster is still seeping out through his voice.

And of course, Sehun catches on, his cheshire grin setting firmly in place. "I just wanted to let you know."

"Well, now that I know, stop talking about it."

"Okay, boss."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It's me ♡
> 
> This chapter was supposed to have more in it, but things happened and it kinda got too long? It ended up being kind of a filler because I split it up though... All the action is in the other half that I'll be putting in the next chapter... But don't have too much expectations! I don't wanna disappoint you guys ;A; Anyway, thanks for reading! Feel free to leave comments, or talk to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mlchlwhite) / [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/melancholywhite) ♡ See you in a couple days (hopefully)!
> 
> PS: I needed to raise awareness on Baekhyun's not-so-secret Taemint side, so I made him pass by as Taemin's super nice ex-boyfriend. One who Taemin actually liked, at some point. Thank you for listening.


	5. Chapter 5

"Jiyeon-ah, stop," Jongin trails behind his running daughter on the sidewalk, calling her to stop. "Why are you running?"

"-ower!" Jiyeon chimes.

"Yes, yes, we're going to buy flowers," Jongin says, taking her hand and pulling it back since she won't stop running. She almost bumped into another person passing by them in the sidewalk—she may be smiling at his cute toddler with understanding, but it's still pretty dangerous to run. "But we're almost here, see? There's no need to run."

He points at the flower shop just a few steps away, and Jiyeon finally slows down her steps. They arrive in front of its colorful entrance, decorated with pots and bouquets of flowers in a myriad of bright colors. It's undoubtedly very eye-catching for his little girl; he can even see her eyes sparkling as she trots forward to touch the flowers.

"Welcome, can I help you?"

A young woman appears from inside the shop, greeting them with a bright smile. She probably works in the shop, going by the apron she's wearing over her clothes.

"Yes, we're just looking around for a bouquet," Jongin replies politely.

Taemin's show is finally opening tonight, and he thought it would be a good idea to bring him some congratulatory flowers. It's truthfully more than a little uncharacteristic of him to give flowers like this, but the idea hasn't left his mind since he thought of it last night. He can already imagine how surprised Taemin will be; his eyes will widen subtly, his lips parting into a little gape, and he will be so speechless he doesn't know what to say. He's always secretly enjoyed trying to pull this expression out of Taemin. Not a lot of people has seen that look on Taemin's face, let alone _make_ him look at them like that—and Jongin takes pride in being the first person who has experienced both. The most difficult part of it is that Taemin doesn't get surprised very easily; he always had to put so much work into surprising him, because he can't lie and Taemin finds him very predictable, but the satisfaction of seeing pure astonishment on his best friend's face when he succeeds is a very, very addicting reward. In fact, just the image is making him so giddy inside right now. It's hopeless.

But, besides all that, the most important thing is that Taemin will be happy to get some flowers. He's always appreciated the congratulatory bouquets he received back when they were dancers, and he hasn't gotten them in quite a while. Taemin's done so much for him and Jiyeon despite his busy schedule, so this is the least he can do, even though his best friend truly deserves much more than just a mere bouquet of flowers.

He feels a little tug on his hand, and he suddenly realizes that he's been absently staring at nothing in particular. Jiyeon's done with touching the flowers, but her eyes are now fixed on the flower shop employee, who quickly noticed her curious look.

"She's really cute. Is she your daughter?" the florist asks, and he nods with a smile. "How old is she?"

Jiyeon finally notices that the woman saw her staring, so she scurries behind his legs shyly to hide.

Jongin chuckles. "Almost two, now."

"The cutest age," she says with a chuckle, giving Jiyeon a little wave that doesn't get reciprocated. "What kind of bouquet are you looking for? We have some pre-made ones inside, but I can also customize one for you."

"Just some congratulatory flowers," he answers. "We're not looking for anything specific."

"Well, please feel free to look around," she gestures inside the shop, leading them in and showing them the rows and shelves of pre-made bouquets by the inner wall. "I'll be by the register if you need assistance."

"Thank you."

Once the employee walks away, Jiyeon immediately rushes towards the colorful wall of flower bouquets, squealing. Jongin trails behind her as she walks to the closest flowers, chattering comments at him in her baby language as she touches them one by one. He doesn't understand what she's saying, so all he can do is hum and respond with 'ooh's and 'aah's from time to time.

Then, Jiyeon stops in front of a large bucket of red roses—and tries to reach for one of its thorny stems.

"Hey, be careful!" he kneels and pulls her hand away in reflex before she could touch it. "Don't touch the thorns. It will hurt. Look at daddy."

He mimics getting hurt, wincing and yelping out in an 'ow', so she understands what he's trying to say. Her formerly excited smile turns into a frown.

"Daddy, -ay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," he says. "But don't touch that part, okay? Or you will be like daddy."

She nods obediently, understanding him, but it doesn't stop her from pouting and glancing at the roses longingly.

"Are they pretty, Jiyeon-ah?"

"Yea," she responds, eyes still fixed on the roses.

"You really wanna touch it, huh?" Jongin chuckles.

Jiyeon hums and nods, looking really sad because she wasn't allowed to touch the bright red flowers. Feeling incredibly sorry, Jongin takes her hand and carefully guides it to the petals.

"Here. You can only touch this part, okay? Be careful."

Her face brightens up as her finger touches the soft, velvety petals, and she starts giggling while she gently caresses them. When she's done, she bashfully takes her hand back, giving him a quick glance before she moves on to the other flowers.

"Do you see anything you like yet?" he asks.

Jiyeon keeps reaching for more flowers—yellow, orange, pink, he doesn't even know what type of flowers they are—but her head immediately turns towards the red roses when she hears his question.

"Besides that one."

Jiyeon stops, then tilts her head up to give him a confused, protesting look.

"Jiyeon-ah. Those are roses. _Red_ roses," he emphasizes. His face is heating up because he knows what that particular flower means, but of course Jiyeon won't understand even if he tries to explain. "Who are we giving the flowers to?"

Jiyeon looks confused, but she still answers anyway. "Daddy."

"Right. Exactly. I can't just randomly give Taemin roses, that's—"

The rest of his sentence is cut off with a single expression from his daughter. She's shrugging, looking up at him with a face that clearly says 'so what'—and he sighs.

"Fine. You know what? I'll get you one. Not that huge thing you were looking at. Just one, okay?" he holds up his index finger to make sure she understands his point. "And you're giving it to him. Not me."

Jiyeon smiles brightly at him, clearly satisfied.

"Okay, now pick something else. Look, isn't that colorful one pretty?"

He points at a vibrant bouquet displayed right in front of them, filled with a mixture of red, purple, and yellow. It's beautiful, in his opinion—very bright and spring-like—but Jiyeon frowns and makes a disgusted face.

"Are you seriously judging my taste, now?" he mocks an offended expression. "Who taught you to be like this, hmm?"

The disgusted expression she's making looks incredibly familiar, and he's starting to wonder if he's seeing things.

"Daddy," she answers nonchalantly.

"A-ha. You've been learning weird stuff from Taeminnie, haven't you?"

Really. The longer he looks at her disgusted-slash-confused expression, the more it looks like Taemin's. It's not because their faces look alike, though. In fact, they don't look like each other at all, but their expressions are almost exactly the same. The angle their eyebrows are tilted, the way they part their lips, and the look in their eyes—it's so similar that he can't help but see Taemin in her. It's uncanny.

After a while, she turns to walk ahead of him towards other bouquets. She mumbles a bunch of words he doesn't understand as she looks at the flowers; he can't tell from her tone if she's grumbling about his accusations, or if she's just commenting about the flowers again. It's cute, though, so he doesn't pay much attention to it and just follows behind her until she stops again.

"Daddy, look!"

Jiyeon points at a bouquet with small, purplish-blue flowers and a couple big pink ones. She tries to reach for it, but fails, as it's placed on a wall shelf behind and slightly above the other flowers. After seeing her pout, he can't resist helping her; he takes out the flowers and holds it for her to see.

"Do you like this one?"

"Uh-huh," she murmurs. With a little chuckle, she touches one of the big, pink flowers, saying something resembling the word 'pretty'.

"It is pretty," Jongin looks down at the bouquet. He can picture Taemin holding it, with a big stunned smile on his face—it makes his heart warm up a little bit. "And it kind of suits him, too. Should we get this one?"

"Yea!!" Jiyeon claps excitedly, wiggling in celebration.

"Good, then. Let's get this one," he says.

He holds his hand out to the toddler, who takes his hand and follows him to the cash register with a slight bounce on her steps. On their way there, they pass by a bucket of single roses—he stops to carefully grab one and brings it with him to the register, where the young lady from before is waiting with a kind smile.

"Are you ready?"

Jongin puts the flowers on the counter. "Yeah, we'll just get these, please."

"Oh, good choice," she eyes the flowers and nods. "I will rewrap it for you. Do you want me to include the rose in the bouquet as well?"

"No, you can keep it separate," he says. "My daughter's giving that one on her own.

The flower shop employee chuckles. "Understood. I'll turn it into a mini bouquet just for her, then."

After getting her marching orders, she re-cuts the blue and pink flowers, rearranges them, and replaces their former wrapping. The flowers are wrapped in a clear plastic sleeve and a paper in a complementary color, tied off nicely with a large silver ribbon.

"It looks beautiful," he comments as she puts the finished bouquet on the counter.

"Thank you," she smiles.

Done with the larger bouquet, she takes the red rose to create Jiyeon's. She cuts the stem to about half its former size, and also cuts the plastic sleeve she'll use to wrap it in half before arranging the flower on top of it, along with half-sized greens and fillers to make it look fuller. Very soon, the small bouquet is finished off with a red ribbon tying everything together, and she waves it proudly in Jiyeon's direction before circling around the counter to personally hand it over.

"Here you go, little girl," she says, letting Jiyeon take the flowers from her with a shy smile. "Aww, you're so cute. Are you giving this to your mommy?"

Jiyeon tilts her head innocently. "No. Daddy."

The corners of her lips rise up into a wider smile as she almost buries her cheeks in the flower bouquet. She looks very cute, but that's not why Jongin is standing there, frozen—it's because the florist's surprised gaze is drifting in his direction, and he knows that she's definitely going to misunderstand.

"...Daddy?" the woman repeats, blinking for a few seconds. The moment she 'realized' what's going on is very clear; he can see when she snapped out of her thoughts and came into her conclusions, though it's not like her stammering doesn't make it obvious. "Oh. _Oh._ Um. I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to assume—"

"No, it's not for…" Jongin scratches the back of his head. This is so awkward—should he even bother explaining? "I mean, it's actually for her uncle, who is doing some stuff today. He really looks like me, and she can't really tell the difference between us yet, so—"

"No, it's okay. There's no need to explain— I completely understand," the florist cuts off, waving her hand in front of her to dismiss the awkward explanation.

She gives him an understanding smile as she walks back behind the counter, but for some reason, he has the feeling that she is still misunderstanding things. It's very obvious that she doesn't buy his explanation. Because of that, he ends up feeling awkward the entire time they finish the transaction. He can't stop thinking about the entire exchange, even as he and Jiyeon walk out of the flower shop with a flower bouquet each.

"Daddy, look!"

Jiyeon waves her red bouquet at him, showing it off as they walk side by side outside the store. Her excited bounce is a good enough distraction, it seems; it works to banish his awkwardness, at least for the time being.

"Yeah. It's so pretty, Jiyeonnie," he compliments, and she gives him a proud, smug look. "Oh, you think it's prettier than mine?"

"Uh-huh," she says in a sing-song voice, and he laughs.

"Oho, you're so sure about that, aren't you?" Her hold on his hand tightens as she cutely grins up at him, and he takes that as an agreement. "Wow. So confident. Well then, we'll see which one Taeminnie likes better."

-

"You look dashing today." Kibum's compliment is the first thing Taemin hears when he walks back into the staff room backstage after changing his clothes.

The show starts in about an hour, and the backstage area is bustling with activity. Between the multiple dressing rooms full of dancers noisily getting dressed and a hallway filled with run crew going back and forth with props and equipment, this small dressing room specifically reserved for the administrative staff to work in feels like a safe haven.

"That turtleneck looks fluffy," the development director chimes in with her opinion, smiling. "Are you wearing a suit jacket with that?"

"Probably, if it doesn't get too hot," Taemin touches the collar of his white turtleneck, slightly pulling it down as he walks towards one of the mirrors to fix his hair. He was going to leave it down, but after another look, it would probably look better if he pushed it back. "Anyone from the board coming tonight?"

"Just the usual," Kibum shrugs, watching him from where he's sitting with the development director, discussing the VIP guest list. "It looks like they're bringing their own cliques, though. Hopefully they won't hound you down until the reception."

Taemin chuckles wryly. He was hoping the ones who are coming would be the better ones, but it looks like he has to deal with the usual stuck-up people tonight. "Just my luck. How about company alumni? Is anyone coming?"

Done with slicking his hair back, he turns to Kibum's direction, only to see him smirk.

"Our former lead dancer Kim Jongin is on the list," his friend quirks one of his eyebrows.

Taemin sighs. Of course he would start with that. The teasing has only gotten worse ever since he admitted that he's still in love with Jongin. It's almost impossible to make Kibum stop now.

"Hyung, please."

"What? There's literally no one else you know on this list anyway, besides him and Sehun," Kibum shakes his head with a smile that can't be trusted. "If you must know, a couple of others are coming tomorrow instead."

"Well, thanks for the tip."

Just as he says that, they hear a knock on the door, which promptly swings open to reveal their production manager—an amazing woman with a powerful mind who is so good at her job that the company hasn't used anyone else in years.

"Taeminnie, someone's here to see you," she says. These words are accompanied by a fond grin—it's a little uncharacteristic of her—and it makes him curious.

"Who?"

A barely audible sound of a short pitter-patter of feet comes from behind her, and he surmises a guess. He can't help but smile as the little girl's face crosses his mind, and the corners of his lips only stretch wider when Jiyeon's small head peeks out from behind the older woman's legs. She searches the room for a little bit, but she quickly finds him—her eyes immediately brightens up as their eyes meet, and her lips part into a wide, wide grin.

"Daddy!!!" Jiyeon exclaims loudly, her voice echoing through the room and back out the hallway.

Excitement is overflowing from her tiny figure, her energy too large to be contained. She almost shoves the production manager aside as she runs in his direction, but thankfully the woman had a quick enough judgment to take a side-step before Jiyeon could bump into her. Mostly out of habit, Taemin bends down to his knees and holds his arms open, waiting for Jiyeon to make her journey to him. As soon as she's close enough he hugs her, lifting her in the air and spinning her around to the sound of her giggles.

His lips are stretched in a grin so wide that his cheeks are starting to hurt; he is so happy to see her he fails to notice that the formerly loud and bustling backstage area has suddenly quietened down.

"Hi, Jiyeonnie. Did you miss me?" he asks, getting his answer in the form of a slobbery baby kiss to the cheek. "Oh, of course you did. I missed you too."

He squeezes her cheek—and she never fails to scrunch her nose when he does so, how adorable—before he puts her down on the floor. He would ruffle her hair, too, but the two little pigtails at the top of her head are so nicely done that he doesn't want to ruin it. It's even decorated with small white ribbons that match her white dress.

Jiyeon is still grinning excitedly, babbling at him about something as she wiggles and bounces on her heels. That's when he finally notices that she's holding something in her hand.

"What are you holding?"

Jiyeon brightens and her lips split into a large smile.

"-ower!!!" she holds up a small bouquet with a single red rose in the middle above her head, presenting it to him with flourish, and he can't help but get a little stunned.

"...For me?"

"Yea!"

To emphasize her point, she wiggles the flowers in front of him and nudges his hand with it until he reaches to take it from her. Her satisfied smile when he lifts the bouquet up is so blinding that he feels like he's going to melt.

He's still stunned; he's more than a little surprised that she brought a cute little bouquet with her. He hasn't received flowers from anyone since he retired, and he feels so happy—so touched—that he thinks he could hug Jiyeon forever for giving him one.

Before he could move to hug Jiyeon or even lift his head to thank her, though, the flowers suddenly multiply in number. His line of sight is invaded by a large bunch of blue irises in bloom and pink stargazer lilies—it's so beautiful that he can't help but gape.

In his astonishment, his eyes can only trail up very slowly, following the arm holding the bouquet to see a familiar smile, and his heart squeezes. Of course it's Jongin. He _hoped_ it would be Jongin—although he doesn't know who else it could be—but now that he knows that it actually is him, the restraints he's put on his feelings are easily crumbling into pieces, letting them run free once more. Simply recognizing that his feelings are back is much, much easier than actually feeling it surge through his core—and it doesn't help that he hasn't seen Jongin in almost two weeks, because he really misses him. A lot. After suppressing his feelings for so long, everything is much more intense. It never used to be like this, he used to know how to control himself—but with the combination of all the stress, the worrying, and Jongin treating him much nicer than usual, it is all just too overwhelming.

Damn it, he's so happy right now. He probably could die just like this.

"You've worked hard, Taemin-ah. Congrats."

Jongin's smile looks oddly satisfied, like he just accomplished something really big. Absently, Taemin takes the flowers from his best friend's hands, and can't help but keep staring at it in shock.

It's such a large bouquet, and it's beautifully wrapped in his favorite shade of blue, but that's really not why he's surprised. Partly, maybe, but the main reason is because Jongin never brings him flowers, ever. Jongin's been to the opening of every single show he's held since he became the company's artistic director, yet he never once brought him congratulatory flowers, let alone a bouquet this big. It's another thing he has to add to his list of weird things Jongin's been doing to him lately, another thing that makes him hope that his feelings aren't so unrequited this time.

Jongin's laugh interrupts him from his inner panic.

"Are you surprised?" Jongin steps closer, casually slinging his arm over his shoulder. He has to tell himself—use his brain to convince himself, once again—not to overthink Jongin's actions, his casual touches, because skinship is _normal._ It's nothing weird, not as weird as giving him flowers. "I thought you would be. You love flowers and you haven't gotten them in a while."

Taemin looks up—which is a bad decision, because it's really hard to breathe now. Their faces are inches away—hell, he probably could _kiss_ Jongin if he leans in just a little bit—and he doesn't know what to do, or what to say.

Three beats late, he finally collects his thoughts enough and figures he should at least thank Jongin for his kind gesture.

"Thanks, Jongin-ah," he says. He may sound calm and normal, but in his head, he's actually congratulating himself for not stammering. "It's… The flowers are really beautiful."

Jongin's bright, contented grin is more beautiful, but he doesn't say that.

"You're welcome," his best friend says, his hand reaching up to ruffle the hair at the back of his head. If he wasn't still in shock, he'd be complaining because he just finished styling it, but well, his mind is sort of disoriented at the moment. "Jiyeonnie helped me pick it, but she thinks her bouquet is prettier. I disagree, though."

The image of Jongin and Jiyeon arguing over whose bouquet is prettier suddenly flashes in his mind, and he can't help but chuckle. Fondness is spreading inside his heart, and he doesn't resist it. He is tired of trying to tamp it down. It may be a little selfish, and also a little dumb, but he's really happy right now, and he wants to stay like this—letting everything loose without thinking of the consequences—for just a little while longer.

"Thanks Jiyeonnie. Your flowers are very beautiful, too."

He rearranges the bouquet into his arms so he can free one of his hands, and reaches to pet Jiyeon's head. She beams up at him when he does; her eyes and lips scrunch together, making her look like a satisfied little puppy. It's adorable.

"Hello there, lovebirds." Kibum's teasing voice bursts the little bubble of happiness he has entered, forcing him back to reality. "I hate to interrupt, but are you going to introduce your baby girl to her Uncle Kibum or not?"

Suddenly Taemin realizes exactly how many pairs of eyes are staring at them. He normally wouldn't mind, but in his overly self-conscious state he pulls away from Jongin's hold.

Jongin gives him a confused look. He chooses to just smile and ignore it. Shrug it off.

"Jiyeon-ah, meet Uncle Kibum," Taemin says, pointing Kibum out to Jiyeon. She looks up at his older friend for a moment, but instead of greeting him, she runs to hide behind his legs.

With a chuckle, Kibum kneels down and follows her. "Hello."

Jiyeon peeks her little head out from behind his legs when Kibum offers her a hand to shake. Shyly, she reaches to touch him with her own hand, wrapping it around a couple of his fingers.

"Aww, you're so cute," Kibum comments. "So much cuter than Taeminnie."

"That last bit is completely unnecessary," Taemin retorts. Jongin dares to laugh, and he glares at him. "Don't laugh."

"What? It's true," Jongin says. Taemin intensifies his glare, and Jongin retracts his statement, hesitantly adding, "...Sometimes."

After touching Kibum, it seems Jiyeon finally realizes that he's harmless and won't hurt her. She comes out from her hiding spot and approaches his friend, although she's still acting a little shy.

"What's your name?" Kibum asks, although he already knows her name. Jiyeon mumbles something that sounds like her name, although not quite. "Oooh, Jiyeonnie. That's a cute name. I'm your uncle. Can you say that? Uncle?"

"Uncle," Jiyeon repeats.

"Oh! You're so smart!"

"Uncle!" she says the word again, imitating Kibum when he does little claps in front of her.

Meanwhile, Taemin is staring down at the two of them, a little unsure if he should be confused or offended.

"You know, I knew she could say that word, but I've never actually heard her say it," he mumbles.

Apparently, the only one who is listening is Jongin.

"I don't think she even considers you an uncle," Jongin says with a little chuckle.

"Then what am I? Cooked shrimp?" he huffs. "I can't be her daddy's twin forever."

"Can't you just accept it already?" Jongin laughs. "She's so attached to you she thinks you're another parent. It's kind of a side effect from us spending so much time together."

Yeah, but he isn't her parent—and will never be. He's supposed to be an 'uncle'. Her dad's friend. That's something that Taemin already accepted, but it's hard to keep that in mind when Jongin himself accepts the fact that his daughter considers him as much of a parent as he is, without question. It seems so easy for him. Jongin acts like it's something expected, like this is how it should _be,_ and Taemin still doesn't know how he should feel about that.

"I'm just a little bitter," he says as an excuse.

In the middle of all this, the stage manager knocks on the door and enters the room. "It's thirty minutes to curtain. Can we open the doors?"

The man is looking at him, expecting an answer.

"Yeah, go ahead," he says to the man, who immediately disappears into the hallway again. Then he turns to Jongin, after putting down the bouquets he's been holding the entire time on a nearby dressing table. "You guys should go find your seats now, before it gets too crowded."

"Yep," Jongin collects his daughter from where she was playing with Kibum, lifting her up. "You still have to work, right?"

"Yeah. I'll be watching the show from somewhere, though," Taemin says, poking Jiyeon's puffed cheeks. She scrunches her face again. "And by somewhere, I mean probably the tech booth."

"Great. Hope everything goes well," Jongin says, reaching to pat him on his shoulder. "I'll be off. You know where to find me."

He nods. "I'll see you later."

Taemin lifts his hand to squeeze the one Jongin's placed on his shoulder with a smile, and uses his other hand to pinch Jiyeon's cheeks one last time. After a couple more goodbyes to the other people in the room, Jongin leaves to find his seat in the audience. Thankfully, Jiyeon doesn't complain too much about leaving him behind.

"Are you sure Jongin's not in love with you?" Kibum whispers to his ear once the door closes behind Jongin. "He sure looks at you like he is."

Taemin pinches his friend's side, making him yelp in pain. "Can we not talk about this right now?"

"Just an observation," Kibum swats his hand in revenge. It actually kind of hurts. "I think anyone with eyes will agree with me."

Taemin looks at Kibum's knowing grin, and all he can do is sigh.

-

After the performance, Jongin waits by his seat until the hall clears up. With people filing out in a somewhat orderly chaos, the aisles are more than a little crowded, and since he has a tiny little toddler with him, it's not a wise idea to join the masses trying to get out right away. He waits until everyone in his row is gone before he leads Jiyeon into a slightly emptier aisle, although he doesn't follow the crowd to leave. Instead, he goes in the opposite direction, to wait at the front row, right in front of the stage. He lifts the constantly chattering Jiyeon to stand on one of the seats and stands on the empty aisle, facing her.

Since the show ended, Jiyeon has been animatedly talking to him about something. Her hands are flailing in the air, making the program book she's holding flap around, and her head is bouncing and shaking as she tries to describe things to him.

It's like she is finally letting out everything she wanted to say during the show, and it makes him smile.

Before it started, he made her promise to be quiet—told her that if she's loud she won't see Taemin after the show—and she honored her promise so well that even he can't help but be a little amazed. And It's not like she was only quiet because of he threatened her; she seemed to genuinely enjoy the show, her eyes sparkling in amazement as the dancers fly across the stage, their detailed  movements complemented by colorful lights and fitting visualizations on the large screen.

He loved the show too—Taemin's artistic yet entertaining production style will always be his favorite—but it is still astonishing to see Jiyeon so enthused. He has been in the dance industry for years, and he's never seen a toddler get that excited while watching a 'boring' dance performance.

While he was getting lost in thoughts, only partly listening to his daughter's babbles, he suddenly feels a pair of hands snaking onto his ribs, and jab him really hard at his most ticklish spot.

He jumps in place and reflexively turns to look behind him—only to find none other than a slyly grinning Taemin.

Pouting, he smacks his best friend's chest in revenge, but it doesn't seem to have much effect because Taemin is still grinning at him expectantly.

"Did you enjoy the show?"

When he sees Taemin smiling so widely, it's hopeless to try stopping himself from smiling as well. His best friend's smile has always been a little contagious, and its powers have become even more effective, lately.

He naturally slings his arm around Taemin's shoulder and pulls him close, dragging him right by his side. "It was amazing. Did you even need to ask?"

When Taemin laughs, he looks almost bashful. His hand comes up to cover his mouth, and his lips are stretched so wide, so far up his cheeks, that he has to close his eyes.

Jongin doesn't know how he's never noticed, at least not until recently, but from up close, Taemin—and his stupid laugh—is actually even more stunning.

It's over far too soon. Before he's had his fill of staring at his best friend's blinding smile— _he's gorgeous,_ his mind supplies, without his permission—Taemin turns his head in Jiyeon's direction instead.

"How about you, Jiyeonnie?" Taemin asks. "Was it fun?"

The little girl's eyes glimmer at Taemin's attention.

"Yea!"

Jiyeon bounces on the chair—it's a little worrying, because it's one of those theater chairs that fold in half, she needs to be more careful—and starts her chatter again. He still has no idea what she's talking about, but she's still animatedly flailing her hands when she talk, and now that Taemin's right here standing in front of her, he suddenly notices something.

"This is funny," he chuckles.

It's just like earlier, in the flower shop. Jiyeon's animated gestures also resemble Taemin's, just like how her disgusted face looked like Taemin's, down to the tiny curves of her eyebrows.

They really have been spending too much time together, haven't they?

Taemin tilts his head and shifts to look at him, confused. "What's funny?"

"Look at her," he smiles at his best friend, whose eyebrows are still furrowed. "She talks just like you. With the hands and everything."

Taemin blinks at him with a blank expression for a moment, before finally turning to Jiyeon to check. However, Jiyeon's noticed that they weren't listening to her anymore, so she has stopped talking, her lips pursing into a pout instead.

"I don't see it," Taemin says, with an eyebrow raised.

But then, Taemin's full lips curl up into a sort of wistful smile. It's like he's looking further beyond Jiyeon's pouty face, like he's recalling something else in his memory. Jongin recognizes this look, but he doesn't think he's ever been as _captured_ by it as he is now.

"She looks like you when she pouts, though."

For some reason, Taemin's casual declaration makes his cheeks heat up. He doesn't know why. It might be the tone of his voice—so soft, so lovely—or it might be something else, but the statement itself is just an observation that means absolutely nothing. Jongin shouldn't be so affected by it. What is wrong with him?

But before he gets into that, he has to deny the accusation.

"I don't pout."

It's a useless denial, because he can feel his lips jutting out as he talks. His actions and his words don't match; Taemin will, without a doubt, pick up on it and laugh at him.

"Of course you don't," Taemin faces him and starts laughing again, as expected. Jongin admittedly kind of zones out for a second when the tinkling sound of Taemin's laughter hits his ears. "It's not like you're pouting right now or anything."

With a teasing grin, Taemin lifts his index finger and places it gently onto his protruded lips, pushing it inwards.

If Jongin's cheeks weren't heating up before, they definitely are now. His heart is making it a mission to pump all the blood in his body up to his head—faster, faster, faster—making him feel so lightheaded he could probably fly.

He wonders when the room got so warm.

"Tone down the flirting, guys," a familiar teasing voice says from besides them, snapping him out of his Taemin-induced trance. "Don't do weird stuff in front of your daughter. She's still too young."

When he looks to the source of the voice, he finds Sehun, watching them with mildly amused eyes and a lingering snigger on his lips. Just by seeing his face, Jongin can tell that Sehun knows how affected he is by what Taemin's doing to him.

The blush on his face gets redder in his embarrassment. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to watch you two act like the _sweetest_ not-a-couple in the world," Sehun shrugs, before circling around them to approach Jiyeon. "Hi, Jiyeonnie. Give uncle a high five."

Giggling, Jiyeon tries to rise to her toes so she could reach Sehun's hand—only for her to pout again when he playfully moves his hand away. He doesn't let her actually give him a high five until she starts grumbling, and then he laughs, satisfied after teasing a little toddler.

"Cute," Sehun comments, before he approaches Taemin for a little side hug. "Congrats. The show was great as always."

"Thanks for coming," Taemin says with a bright smile, pulling away from him to give Sehun a full thank you hug.

All of a sudden, the space by his side feels so empty.

Jongin quickly rectifies that by pulling Taemin back to his side as soon as he parts from Sehun. The feeling of emptiness vanishes as soon as Taemin is next to him. Recently, he's realized that having Taemin beside him is like an all-powerful solution to every single one of his problems. Taemin doesn't even need to do anything. He just has to stand next to him—or in front of him, or just be somewhere in the vicinity—and Jongin will feel safe and happy. It's nice. It feels good.

But then again, when has Taemin ever left his side? He feels so stupid to only realize it now.

Belatedly, he sees the looks on his friends' faces, and finally notices that he might have been a bit too hasty in pulling Taemin back. The question in Taemin's eyes and Sehun's knowing grin are tell-tale signs of that. He avoids their gazes and pretends he never saw anything. It's embarrassing.

"By the way, you'll never guess who I saw," Sehun says, his face turning serious.

Right at that moment, he notices someone behind Sehun, coming in their direction—a man with a familiar face, one that he hasn't seen in years. The man quickly notices that he's spotted him and waves at them with a little smile.

Jongin knows that Taemin is also seeing what he is seeing when he stiffens awkwardly against his side, and suddenly a protective instinct surges through him.

"Baekhyun," Taemin whispers, only loud enough for him to hear.

When the man finally steps close enough to be in talking distance, he feels Taemin's fingers firmly clutching onto his shirt, and he's unable to stop himself from pulling the other man slightly closer, tightening his grip against his shoulder.

"Hi guys. It's been a while," Baekhyun says with a friendly, harmless smile.

Taemin relaxes beside him, just a little, and Jongin thinks he should be okay now. Taemin clearly doesn't need the protection, but for some reason, Jongin still can't relax.

"You came to watch?" Taemin speaks up, his voice sounding very neutral.

Maybe too neutral. Or maybe Jongin is the only one over-analyzing things.

Following his friend's cue, he forces himself to smile at Baekhyun. This man standing in front of them is an old friend of his—at least before what happened, before he introduced him to Taemin—so he knows that he should at least be civil. Friendly.

However, he can't deny that he also feels a slight tinge of hostility, deep inside. It's unreasonable—but at the same time, also perfectly understandable. It's probably because he's still holding a grudge from what happened years ago. Taemin might be okay with it, and it may be a mutual breakup or whatever they called it, but he knows for certain that his best friend did _not_ deserve to get dumped for no reason.

"Yeah. I'm here as a company representative, of sorts," Baekhyun explains. "And I know this sounds a little awkward, but I need to talk to you, Taemin. If you have some time."

There it is, again. The uncomfortable clench in his gut.

"About what?" The words tumble out of Jongin's mouth before he could even think about it, his tone sounding way more hostile than he wanted it to be.

Taemin is tugging on the fabric of his shirt again, and he knows that he's gripping onto his shoulder too tightly, but it's impossible for him to be rational right now.

After a short, silent moment, Baekhyun's eyes flicker to the side, and suddenly widens, as if he has come to realize something he didn't know about before.

"Oh—I'm so sorry. I… The conversation is strictly business, I swear," the older man panickedly waves a hand in front of his face, like he's trying to dismiss any other ideas anyone might have about his intentions. "My clothing line is looking for a brand ambassador in the performing arts industry, and one of your dancers might be a match. We just don't have a point of contact—well, besides Taemin."

None of them say anything, for a short moment. Even the hall is almost silent, now that all the audience has left, save for a couple people who knows someone in the company, like them.

"Okay," Taemin's voice cuts the silence. "Let's talk somewhere else."

After saying that, Taemin finally pulls away from Jongin with an assuring smile. He leads Baekhyun away to another corner of the hall, somewhere near the stage door, where he spotted a couple other staff members and dancers chatting.

Jongin can't help but follow them with his eyes as they walk together side by side, and he can't tear them away from their figures when they start their discussion either.

"Daddy?" Jiyeon's quiet voice manages to make him look away.

He almost forgot that she was still there. She's now sitting on the seat she was standing on, clutching onto her program book as she pouts. Suddenly, he realizes that he was so distracted by Baekhyun's arrival that he ignored her.

"She's been looking at you guys with that pouty face the entire time, just so you know," Sehun points out.

He sighs. Good thing Sehun was there with them. At least someone was clear-headed enough to remember that they have a toddler with them.

"Sorry Jiyeonnie," he says, patting her head. "Sorry I ignored you."

As a response, Jiyeon says something in a questioning tone and turns her head to the direction Taemin left in. She looks slightly worried, so he kneels in front of her and gives her a gentle smile.

"Yeah, he's talking to an old friend," he explains. "Don't worry. He'll be back soon."

She curves her eyebrows and reaches to touch his cheeks, and he lets her pat her hands all over his face until she nods in satisfaction.

He only straightens up when Jiyeon finally decides to sit back and let him go, but once he's standing at his full height, his eyes can't help but drift back in Taemin and Baekhyun's direction once again. Surprisingly, they're even smiling and laughing together—and that annoying feeling is back, coming at him in full force.

He really wants to dismiss it as resentment still left over from past events—to make it seem old and trivial, but he can't—because that's not what this is. He knows that for a fact, somehow, although he hasn't figured out exactly what it is. It's much, much uglier than a stupid past grudge over something that doesn't even concern him, and more possessive than just a simple urge to protect a friend from someone who has hurt them before.

"Your face is looking pretty green there, Kim Jongin," Sehun's teasing tone rings in his ears. "Can't handle seeing your hubby with his ex?"

And then, it hits.

Oh.

_Oh._

"You should just admit it," Sehun quietly continues talking when he doesn't respond, turning his head to follow his gaze. "You're jealous. Everyone can see it. Byun Baekhyun totally saw it. Heck, even your _baby_ can see it."

"No," he says lowly. "It's not jealousy."

That's what comes out of his mouth, but his head is whirring. With the corner of his eyes, he sees Sehun looking at him disbelievingly, and he tries again.

"It's really not. I'm just concerned."

He doesn't know if he's saying the words to convince Sehun or to convince himself, but he knows he isn't doing a very good job. He doesn't sound convincing at all.

"Concerned about what? Them getting back together?" Sehun challenges, and he can't stop himself from glaring at his friend. Despite that, Sehun continues fearlessly. "It's completely possible. Their breakup was pretty civil, from what I've heard. It wasn't because of a fight, or anything. It just didn't work out at the time."

He grits his teeth, and he feels his fists unwittingly clench on thin air. He doesn't need to be told about that. He still remembers the moment Taemin told him about it. It came out of nowhere, and he didn't expect to hear that at all, but despite him getting weirdly offended about someone dumping his best friend, he knows that there were no hard feelings left behind. They broke up because they decided to, and even though it may be awkward, they can still talk to each other.

Just look at them now, talking and laughing like old friends. It irritates him.

"See? Look at you," Sehun grunts. "Getting unreasonably mad when you see a guy with someone else is jealousy, Jongin. I can't believe I have to spell it out for you."

No. Sehun doesn't need to.

The ugly, irrational ire that arises when he's subjected to the view of Taemin pulling Baekhyun into a hug before they part ways is already a big revelation in itself. He doesn't want to see it. In fact, he wants to go there and drag Taemin _out_ of that embrace.

He knows that it's probably just a casual goodbye hug. There's a fat chance that it doesn't mean anything, but it still doesn't feel good to watch it from this distance. It just doesn't feel right. Taemin should be over here. Next to him. Not there.

After what feels like forever, Taemin finally walks back in their direction, and he tries to shake off these thoughts. When he comes back, Taemin has a light, unburdened smile on his face—much lighter than before he went off to talk to Baekhyun.

Jongin has to hold himself back from asking details about their conversation. It's probably inappropriate if it's truly about company business, and well, he doesn't want to hear it, just in case it hurts.

Wow. He's actually hurting over this. He can't believe it.

"Sorry about that," Taemin says, stepping in front of him.

His eyes are searching Jongin's expression, and he's looking at him like he _knows._

Jongin panics. Taemin can always read him like an open book—so what if he finds out? He hasn't even sorted out his own thoughts. What is he going to do?

His thoughts stop as soon as Taemin reaches to touch his forearm.

"I was going to introduce him to Kibum, but the staff said he's talking to someone from the board," Taemin explains, as if he's reading his mind, as if he knows what Jongin wanted to ask. Then, he gives him a calming, soothing smile. "Sorry. Didn't mean to talk to him for so long."

Jongin doesn't know if Taemin knows this, but those words were exactly what he needed.

He takes a deep breath. Everything is normal. Nothing's going wrong. And even if things are going wrong, he'll figure it out. Later.

Taemin's smile widens, and he changes the topic. "It's almost time for the reception. Are you guys coming?"

Right. The reception.

He looks down at Jiyeon, who is now flipping through her program book and talking to herself. She pauses to yawn for a second, pouts at the interruption, even though she herself caused it, and then continues to flip through the colored pages, pointing to the paper as if she's reading the text.

"I think we're going home. She's tired."

He tilts his head in Jiyeon's direction, and Taemin follows his gaze.

"Right. That's okay, then. It's way past bedtime, anyway," Taemin chuckles.

The fingers that Taemin rested on his forearm slowly travel upwards, not stopping until he reaches his shoulder. _This is nothing,_ he tells himself. Taemin touches him like this all the time. It's nothing new. Nothing special. He shouldn't be so self-conscious over it, and he definitely shouldn't feel like his heart is going to explode.

He curses at himself in his head. He definitely needs to go figure this out. Map out his thoughts. And maybe make a plan or two for when things go wrong—because there's so many ways this could go wrong.

"I'm coming to the reception, but I won't be there for too long," Sehun says, joining the conversation. "Although I think you already forgot that you were asking the question to me, too."

Taemin blinks. Three times.

"I didn't forget. I was just distracted," his best friend huffs. There's a light pink tinge on his round cheeks that Jongin never noticed before. "Anyway, I think it's time for me to make my appearance there, so…"

Taemin has to leave. He doesn't even need to say the rest of his words, Jongin already understands. He sighs and lets his arms encircle Taemin's waist to pull him into an embrace. Soon, he finds that it's very hard to resist burying his face in Taemin's shoulder, to breathe in his scent, to never let go. He wonders when he became like this.

"Don't drink too much," he whispers. "We all know what happens when you get drunk."

When he pulls away, albeit reluctantly, Taemin is looking at him the way he always does. His eyes are shining, but so dark and deep that Jongin thinks he can see his own reflection in them—or maybe even drown. Now, he can't help but wonder when Taemin started looking at him like this. To him, this was just how it is, how it always has been. He never had or needed a reason to question so many things.

Until now, that is.

Then, Taemin laughs. He really needs him to stop laughing—it's doing unnecessary things to his heart. He doesn't need it to do flips everywhere every time Taemin laughs.

"Just say it. You're sick of taking care of me," Taemin smirks and pinches his ear.

He winces for a moment, although he doesn't need to, and then he grins and returns the favor. "Since you know that already, you better use this ear and listen to me."

Taemin huffs out in laughter again, then lets him go with one last squeeze of their interlaced fingers. Afterwards, he goes to hug Jiyeon, saying his goodbyes, and coaxing her to let him go when she protests.

"Daddy will come visit you later, promise," Jongin hears Taemin whisper to Jiyeon.

He knows that Taemin slipped again, but unlike all the other times, he can't laugh or point it out. This feels so natural it feels like it's meant to be, and he kind of wants things to stay like this forever.

The thing is, he doesn't know if it's selfish of him to want something like that.

Reluctantly, Jiyeon finally lets go of Taemin. Her pout is more prominent than ever, but she's trying her best to not cry. With one last wave at Jiyeon's direction and a quick hug for Sehun, Taemin is off to whichever part of the hall the reception is at.

Once Taemin is out of hearing distance, Sehun sidles up next to him.

"Is it bad that I'm hoping he'd get drunk tonight?" his friend whispers.

"Yes," he says, a little too quickly. "Don't jinx it."

Taemin has one, very weird, drunken habit. That habit is to find Jongin and just... flop, right on top of him, and sleep motionless, until he wakes up—usually with a hangover. It doesn't matter if Jongin is right next to him, or if he's in his apartment, asleep; Taemin always finds his way to him, somehow. If he gets drunk enough, he'll do other things too. It's nothing too uncomfortable, but in his current state of mind, he doesn't know how he'll handle it. He turned into a mess just from hearing Taemin laugh earlier; he doesn't know if he can handle a drunk, snuggly, Taemin without combusting into pieces.

"Well, then," Sehun pats his back and leaves towards the reception, snickering. "Good luck."

-

Jongin wakes up in the middle of the night when a heavy weight drops on top of his whole body. It wheezes the breath out of him in one go with the way it's constricting his chest, and his eyes fly open immediately even though he can't see very clearly. All he knows is that there are dark strands of hair tickling his face—and his chin, and his neck—that he smells alcohol, and that this thing on top of him isn't moving anytime soon.

It doesn't take very long for him to realize what it is. It's very obvious that it's a body—an adult man's body—and the weight is familiar enough for him to recognize.

It's Taemin. Of course it's Taemin.

Damn it. Sehun really jinxed it. He should have known. Actually, he won't be surprised if Sehun actually got him drunk at the reception—who knows what happened there.

He sighs. "I told you not to drink too much."

Taemin lets out a long humming noise and nestles closer, burying his face in the juncture of his neck. Shivers run down his spine when he feels Taemin's breath hit skin, and in a sort of weird reflex, he tilts his head to the side to give Taemin more room. Even his groggy mind can recognize how weird they look if someone were to walk in on them, but there's no one else here, and he couldn't care less right now. He already has enough to think about. It was already so hard for him to fall asleep earlier; all he wants right now is to just go back to sleep.

From experience, he knows that Taemin won't be rolling off of him, and will refuse to let go even if he tries to pry his body away, so he wiggles his own arms out of his blankets to wrap them around Taemin's waist. This way, even if his whole body is numb in the morning, at least his arms will be able to move. Hopefully.

However, when his palms reach the small of Taemin's back, he realizes something.

He's touching _skin._

"Where the hell is your shirt," he groans, feeling his face heat up despite not being able to see anything in the darkness.

With his sight compromised, his other senses are slightly heightened. He can hear Taemin breathe against his neck, feel his skin under his fingers as he roams them up his spine because he can't help it, and smell the scent of alcohol surrounding him, invading his senses.

For a second, he wonders if he will taste it on Taemin's lips if he kisses him.

He curses at the dangerous thoughts that flicker into his head. This is so stupid. He doesn't understand why he's suddenly feeling like this _now,_ when he's been with Taemin for thirty years. It doesn't make any sense. He's seen Taemin naked. He's touched his naked back plenty of times when they scrub each other's backs in the showers—it never felt like this.

Maybe he's desperate for affection. It's been years since he last dated anyone, or was even attracted to anyone. Taemin is all he's had for companionship in the past couple of years, the closest thing he has to a partner, so maybe he just got too attached.

But then again, that doesn't explain anything. He and Taemin has been attached at the hip since forever. Nothing is different there.

Then maybe it's because Jiyeon has gotten into the mix, now. This little thing they have between them—this perfect little family of three, as Sehun so aptly described—is _so close_ to the future family he's always imagined. Maybe he is unconsciously letting Taemin fill the one empty role in his dream family. Maybe that's why he has no problem letting Jiyeon think of him as another parent, another father—maybe he's feeling like this because of that too, influenced by his own fantasies.

No, that's not it either.

Taemin isn't only filling an empty role—he fits in too perfectly to only be a simple fill-in. He is all he's ever imagined in a perfect partner, and he doesn't know how he's never seen it before. They know each other so well they don't need words to communicate. They have so many things in common; all their shared hobbies, and their thirty years' worth of shared memories. He also trusts Taemin with his life, he's the only one he trusts completely with his everything, the number one person he would go to in times of need. Taemin is his strength. He's told many people this in the past, but nobody seems to understand how deep this trust runs—not even himself, apparently.

Maybe Taemin understands. He always seems to understand, always seems to know the right thing for him to do.

Now that he's piecing things together, it's like his imaginary dream family from forever ago was built around Taemin, around having him as that one constant in his life, the one he'll spend forever with. It doesn't surprise him, actually. Taemin's been there forever, and he'll continue to be there. It's not even a question.

A quiet groan interrupts his thoughts. Taemin snuggles even closer to him, as if he's trying to meld their bodies together, as if it's even possible to get any closer than they already are. He feels goosebumps trailing on Taemin's skin, and belatedly realizes that he might be cold. Gently, he pulls the edges of his blankets and wraps them around his best friend—a description that feels a little wrong, when connected to all these feelings currently swirling inside him.

With a content sigh, Taemin snuggles into the warmth, burying his face even closer to his neck, soft full lips grazing and trailing and pressing against his pulse. Normally, he would say it tickles, though he wouldn't push him away. However, that's definitely not where his mind is going at the moment. His skin is very sensitive there, and honestly, this feels really good. These light grazes aren't enough—he wants _more._

A frustrated sigh escapes his lips before he could hold it back. He should stop thinking, or at least, steer his mind away to another direction. A more appropriate direction, because he can't see how dirty thoughts about his best friend—his own best friend, out of all people—would help him figure things out.

No, actually, he already has it figured out. Somewhat.

He just has to decide if he wants to let himself fall, because it's going to have to be all or nothing. He doesn't even know how long he could keep it a secret, how much time he has before Taemin figures it out. It will be so hard, with how easily Taemin could read his mind.

But how would he even start to talk to him about this? It's going to be so, so difficult.

He closes his eyes, and keeps it scrunched shut. He will sleep. That's the first step; he can't think about this when his mind is wandering everywhere.

He will sleep. He can continue figuring things out while he's dreaming.

He only ends up having three hours of sleep before he wakes up. His whole body is numb from the constant weight restricting the blood flow, but his mind is clearer, and he has an answer.

-

His head is killing him.

That's the first thing Taemin notices when his consciousness rouses, his brain waking up. It's probably morning, now. Everything is dark because his eyes are still closed, so he can't really tell.

He's also warm, comfortable, cocooned in blankets—but it's not a pillow his head is resting on. It's moving. It's warm, it's moving, and he can hear breathing against his ear, and oh—he's lying on top of someone.

A man, from the feeling of the chest he's resting his head on.

He panics inside. Who—

"Awake?"

Jongin's voice is a husky whisper breathed against his ear, making his skin tingle. He sighs in relief, now that he knows it's not a random stranger.

"Mmm."

He hums onto Jongin's collarbone, and shifts up to make himself more comfortable. They're so close that his lips are touching skin, so close he can practically feel the goosebumps traveling down Jongin's neck, to his shoulder, and to wherever else they go.

He takes his time to collect his thoughts, just a little. Kibum dragged him to a second round with the administrative staff, after the reception, and he must have had a little too much alcohol there. He shouldn't have listened to Kibum. He always wakes up in the same place whenever he gets drunk, and it's not a wise decision to be snuggling with Jongin right now, when all his feelings are resurging uncontrollably.

In the middle of all this, he notices that his skin is directly touching the blankets wrapped around him. That's odd.

"...Where's my shirt?"

Jongin shrugs beneath him. Or at least, he makes an attempt to shrug, but fails because of Taemin's weight on him.

"Dunno. You already lost it when you flopped on top of me last night."

Right. Of course.

Furrowing his eyebrows, he tries to lift his head. He wants to look at Jongin, or do something else, maybe roll off of him, but as soon as he even moves his head, the wave of dizziness attacks. Having failed that attempt, he doesn't want to try it again; he plops his head back down, resting it on Jongin's collarbone with a grunt.

"What are you doing?"

"My head hurts," he groans, his voice muffled by the fabric of Jongin's shirt. "Lemme stay like this a bit longer."

Jongin lets out breathy, raspy chuckles, and Taemin can't see his face, but he can feel his chest shake with every laugh that passes his lips. Jongin slips his hand under the blanket wrapped around him and rests it at the small of his back, before trailing up his spine to stop at his nape. Then, Jongin starts playing with the ends of his hair, stroking the back of his head in gentle touches, and even though skinship is normal between them, sometimes he really wishes Jongin wouldn't do things like this.

All he wants right now is to melt his body onto Jongin's, so they never separate, so he can breathe in his scent forever until he's satisfied, but it makes him feel guilty. It feels like he's taking advantage of Jongin's kindness, and he hates feeling conflicted like this.

"Go ahead. I can't move anyway," Jongin says in response. "Your heavy ass has been on top of me for at least five hours now. My whole body is numb."

Despite the complaint, he can hear the smile in Jongin's voice, so he can't help but smile a little, too. Jongin adds a little more pressure onto his touches and starts massaging his nape, even though he literally just protested about his whole body being numb a moment ago. It feels really good and it helps with the headache, but the tenderness of Jongin's actions does nothing to soothe the throbbing inside his heart.

 _God,_ he loves this man so much. He could probably cry, right at this moment. He wants him so bad, to be with him like this forever. It hurts, in a dull sort of way, because he knows the chances of that happening is probably close to zero.

He falls silent for a couple seconds, maybe even a minute, trying to clear all the negative thoughts from his head. He wonders if Jongin would think he went back to sleep.

"What time is it?" he asks after a while.

Even with his eyes open, he doesn't see too much light, so he can't tell if it's dawn, or noon, or night. Maybe that's why his drunk self likes to sleep here; Jongin's blackout curtains are very effective. Well, it doesn't matter. All he can see right now is the brown plaid of Jongin's pajamas, anyway, because he can't lift his head far enough to look at anything else.

He feels Jongin's head shift, turning towards the direction of the door.

"I don't know, but it's time to wake up," Jongin answers, his chest heaving dramatically with the sigh that follows. "Good morning, Jiyeon-ah."

That's right. Jiyeon.

With a lot of difficulty, he turns his head to the side, resting his cheek against Jongin's chest so he can see the door. Jiyeon stands right at the threshold, rubbing her sleepy eyes with one hand, while the other is holding onto her baby princess doll. He curses inwardly. He hasn't gotten drunk since Jiyeon entered into their lives. This is going to be a new experience. He hopes she doesn't start crying, or he'll be doomed.

Jongin chuckles. "Can you at least try to get off me, now?"

Groaning, he buries his face back onto Jongin's chest.

"Don't wanna."

"Stop being a child," Jongin scolds, and that's all it takes for his friend to win the nonexistent argument.

Reluctantly, Taemin rolls his body off of Jongin's, plopping on the other side of the bed as carefully as he can so his head doesn't spin too much. He pulls the blankets above his head as soon as his back hits the mattress, to shield his eyes from the sunlight in case Jongin decides to open the curtains.

"Finally," Jongin grunts.

He feels the bed move and hears the sheets rustle as Jongin stretches his tired muscles, trying to get the blood to run properly again. A few moments later, the bed dips, and Jongin makes another grunt as he lifts Jiyeon up to the bed with him.

"How was your sleep, my little sunshine?" Jongin asks. Jiyeon answers with a slurred sleepy mumble that he can't decipher. "Oh, that sounds nice. You didn't have any bad dreams? No monsters under your bed?"

"Nuh-uh," Jiyeon's tiny voice says.

Then, there's a little bit of silence on her side. Taemin has no idea why; usually, she'd be more talkative.

"Oh, you're wondering what that thing is?" Jongin laughs, and he finally understands. She's probably staring dumbfounded at his cocoon of blankets right now.

He needs to punish Jongin for laughing. But he can't do it right now, so he'll just have to remind himself to do it later. When he's more able to move.

"That's what happens when you're bad, Jiyeonnie," Jongin continues, taking a more serious tone, even though he's obviously joking around. "You turn into that ugly thing if you don't listen to daddy."

What is Jongin teaching her? He really wants to kick him.

"Bad?" Jiyeon repeats.

"Yeah. It's bad. Really bad," Jongin confirms.

Taemin can hear the grin in his voice. He has a bad feeling about this.

"Wanna hit it?"

"Don't—" he tries, but it's too late, because a pair of tiny hands are already starting to hit him right on his belly. It tickles more than it hurts, and he can't help but start huffing out giggles. "Jiyeon-ah, stop it!"

Jiyeon pauses at the sound of his voice. "...Daddy?"

"Don't listen to him, Jiyeonnie. He deserves it," Jongin encourages. He really needs to take revenge on him later. Kick him. Three times. "Keep hitting him until he wakes up."

He braces himself to get attacked by a toddler again, but it turns out that he didn't need to.

"No, no," Jiyeon refuses. "No!"

He can't stop the laughter from slipping past his lips. He knew he loved his little girl for a reason. She's smart. Smarter than all the other toddlers in the world.

"Yes," Jongin tries to argue, but Taemin won't let him get further than that.

"No," he cuts in, slipping his head above the blankets just far enough for his eyes to see. "Stop, please. I'm awake."

Jiyeon tilts her head and perks up, recognizing the upper half of his face. Then, she starts to totter on the bed in his direction, skipping over Jongin's legs—without stopping, she pulls the blankets off his face and drops all her weight on top of him, squeezing all the air out of his lungs.

"Ah—why are you doing this to me?" he can't help but whine when she unleashes a ton of high-pitched giggles and slobbery kisses at him. "It's way too early, Jiyeon-ah. Let daddy sleep."

"Oh, you slipped again."

He hears the laughter before it even comes and makes a note to kick four times. He's still counting.

"I know, don't laugh," he grumbles. "But for real, can't you two just go outside? Let me sleep my hangover off."

Jongin shifts to lie down on his side and lifts an eyebrow at him. "Oh, you're ordering me around in my own house, now?"

Taemin blinks, taken aback by the subtle teasing lilt of Jongin's voice. His features are softened with sleep, and his hair tousled and messy, yet he looks so damn attractive when he does that thing with his eyebrows.

He really wants to kiss this look off of Jongin's face.

But he can't do that, now, can he? How annoying.

"I'm begging you," he ends up saying, after snapping out of his rapidly spiraling thoughts. "Please. Just go away. I'll come out soon."

Jongin grins at him smugly. At first, he thought Jongin wouldn't listen to his very sincere request, but he's proven wrong when Jongin sits up and lifts Jiyeon off of his torso.

"Jiyeonnie, let's go play outside," Jongin says, facing Jiyeon with a fake pout. "Daddy Taem is being no fun."

Taemin gapes.

Jiyeon giggles and tries to copy Jongin's words, stammering. "Daddy— no 'un!"

What—did he hear that correctly?

"...You realize what you just called me, right?" he asks, hesitant.

He's understandably still in a little bit of a shock; plus, he doesn't even know if he should believe his ears.

"Isn't it fine? She'll never stop calling you that, anyway."

Jongin shrugs. He is noticeably trying—so hard—to make his tone sound casual, but the way he's pointedly avoiding Taemin's eyes is suspicious enough, not to mention the red tinge on his ears that is so dark it's visible even in the slightly dark room.

Jongin must know that he's trying to piece things together, because he quickly gets up to his feet, taking Jiyeon with him. He's running—trying to avoid something.

This is weird. Jongin's being weird again. Taemin's only getting more questions, and more unneeded branches of hope.

"Go back to sleep," Jongin says.

The underlying meaning in Jongin's words is 'please forget I ever said anything', but he doesn't know if he should. Jongin's been acting weird enough these past few weeks.

"But, Jongin—"

"Seriously. Just go back to sleep. I'll be back with some aspirin," Jongin cuts him off, finally meeting his gaze. "Let's talk about that later."

With that, Jongin bolts out of the room, toddler in tow.

Taemin can only watch him leave, dozens of questions circulating inside his head. This is starting to make him worry—not about himself, but about Jongin. He needs to know what is going on.

But not now. Later. When he doesn't have a hangover; when he's able to think clearly enough to help Jongin figure out whatever it is he's struggling about.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi ♡ Congratulations for making it through! I got carried away with writing, and somehow this chapter turned so long. Imagine if I followed my original plan and had this+the last chapter as one, I would have ended up posting a 20k word chapter...
> 
> I'm honestly very nervous about this one, even though I had fun writing it. Realization chapters are just nerve-wrecking for me to post ;~; The only reason I push through is because Jiyeonnie is so cute (unlike her dads). But anyway. Thank you for sticking with me! You know the drill, feel free to leave comments, or talk to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mlchlwhite) / [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/melancholywhite) ♡
> 
> PS:  
> Byun Baekhyun, my friend. Thanks for all your help in opening a certain idiot's eyes. I don't know if I portrayed his character well—I didn't actually plan on giving him lines at first, but I hope the interactions are vague enough to be somewhat in-character ;A;


	6. Chapter 6

"Have you heard the rumors?" Sehun says, as soon as he enters the studio's staff lounge, on Tuesday afternoon.

Jongin's been sitting in there for hours, reviewing videos, even since before Sehun came in and started his class. Sehun pulls a chair right in front of him, across the shared desk in the middle of the room. From the look of the studio behind the lounge's glass windows, students trickling out of the room one by one, his class probably just ended.

"What rumors?" he looks up from his laptop screen curiously.

"The ones about Taemin," Sehun relaxedly leans back on his chair, his face flat. "Apparently people are talking about how he secretly got married—or knocked some girl up and had a kid."

Jongin chokes. "What the—"

"Interesting, right?" Sehun's expression is still nonchalant, but his tone betrays his amusement. "Well, the one about knocking someone up is completely wrong—we all know he doesn't like girls—but the other one? I think it's pretty accurate."

Sehun isn't revealing everything all at once, and the suspense is making Jongin curious. He wants to ask, but he can't, because there's something about these rumors that is amusing to this one friend of his, and recently, the only things that amuse Sehun always seem come at his expense.

"You're not gonna ask?" Sehun grins, finally deciding to stop keeping up his not-so-convincing poker face. "Fine. I'll tell you anyway. They're saying he eloped to another country five years ago—with you, his long-time secret boyfriend—and recently decided to adopt a child since his career has stabilized. Sounds like your life story, doesn't it?"

He sighs. "...Should I be surprised?"

For some reason, he saw it coming. Sort of.

"Taemin didn't even know I was adopting her," he huffs. He tries to stay calm, but his face is starting to heat up anyway. "Why is he getting all the credit?"

Sehun raises an eyebrow. _"That's_ the part of the story you have an issue with?"

He bites his lower lip and scratches at the back of his ear, fiddling with the roots of his hair.

"Well," he clears his throat and looks away, avoiding Sehun's gaze. "I could, sort of, understand how people came up with the… other part."

Word travels fast in the dancer community, and even he knows just how ambiguously he acted at the opening night a few days ago. There were at least a dozen pairs of eyes in and around the area, watching and listening to them. So many people watched him personally present that huge bouquet to Taemin, _and_ heard his daughter calling Taemin her dad.

Knowing that a weird rumor would eventually spread still doesn't save him from the embarrassment it brings, though. It's not like he's ashamed, or feeling awkward about it—his more recent realizations have helped him with that—he's just a little flustered. It feels a little like those moments in life when he's the last person to know about something.

"Oh?" Sehun leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk, head propped on his hands. "Seems like you've been doing some thinking, lately."

The teasing tone of his friend's voice makes him even more embarrassed.

"It's not a big deal."

Despite his words, he's recalling what he's been thinking about in the past few days—feelings and all—and it's making his cheeks grow even warmer than they already are. His heart seems to be making it a mission to pump all his blood to his cheeks; he can only hope that his face isn't _too_ red from all the blushing.

Sehun's lips curl into a mischievous smirk. "Are you gonna tell me, or…?"

Jongin pauses.

He doesn't know if he's ready to admit his feelings—his more romantic than friendly feelings for his own best friend—to someone else. Hell, he hasn't even fully admitted it to himself.

Well, he has. But not out loud. It hasn't completely sunk in, yet.

Even so, after realizing his feelings, keeping it in has gotten a lot harder. They are slowly but surely seeping into his every action, his every word—and he doesn't know how much time he has until these feelings completely overtake him. It will be much more obvious, then, if it isn't already.

He doesn't even know what to do about it, yet. He knows what he _wants_ to do, but he's not sure if that's a good idea. The biggest problem is, the person he usually consults about these things, Taemin, is the one person who can't know.

Not yet, at least. Not until he figures out what to do.

"I just—" he runs his hand through his hair, deciding to talk. Sehun is his closest friend after Taemin, maybe he'll have some good insight. "I'll tell you, but you can't tell Taemin about this."

Sehun snorts, but nods anyway. "Go on."

He bites his lip again. Just thinking about the words is already nerve-wrecking, and now he's about to actually confess them. Out loud.

"I think I like him," he says quickly.

He looks at his friend, waiting for a reaction—any reaction—but his face is as flat as ever. It's like Sehun is also waiting for something else, although Jongin has no clue what it is.

"What?" Sehun finally replies, after he realizes that Jongin isn't going to say anything else. He arches his eyebrows. "That's it?"

Jongin throws his own confused look at the other man.

"I literally just told you that I'm basically in love with my best friend," he spits out, heart beating out of his chest at his own confession. "What else do you want?"

Sehun scoffs. "That's not how you worded it."

"Is that important?" he pouts.

Sehun pauses. And then, he breaks out into laughter.

"Don't laugh at me," he almost whines, his pout jutting out even further.

Sehun doesn't humor him. Instead, his laugh gets even harder, so hard he's bending his whole body, head almost banging onto the table. This situation must be so funny for him, although Jongin, who is the one in the middle of it, doesn't find it funny at all.

Well, maybe it's a little funny, but he's not about to laugh at his own stupidity, even if that's the most hilarious part of it.

"I'm sorry," Sehun huffs, once his laughter fizzles out. "Just— Really, Jongin? You only figured this out _now?"_

He sighs. "It probably sounds stupid to you."

"It doesn't just _sound_ stupid—" Sehun interjects.

"I know," he retorts, cutting the other off before he could roast him for his obliviousness. "It's probably been like this for a while, but I swear, I didn't realize until a few days ago."

He shifts his eyes down, staring at the blank screen of his laptop to avoid Sehun's gaze.

At first, he thought that everything between him and Taemin was just going on as normal. But after all that happened on opening night and afterwards, he can't just brush off his feelings anymore. The flutters in his heart when he sees Taemin laugh. The random urges to touch him—to do _more_ than just touching him. The irrational jealousy that consumes him when he sees Taemin do things with someone else, when he sees whoever that someone else is make Taemin happy. If that's not this hopeless, confusing feeling he calls love, then what is? All of a sudden, he realized that he's been living in intense, serious denial for thirty years, and even after mulling over it for a couple days, he doesn't know how to feel about it. He wants to laugh, but he also wants to cry and curse the world—he doesn't think he has ever been this conflicted in his life.

"Well, congratulations for finally realizing your feelings," Sehun says, breaking the pause they have fallen into. "Took you long enough."

"Thanks," he smiles. A smile that probably looks more like a grimace, but still a smile, nonetheless. "Can you keep this between us? I still don't know what to do about it."

Sehun looks at him in disbelief.

"Seriously?"

"Well, yeah," he sighs. He feels a little less burdened, now that he's told someone. At least he can ask for advice, now. "I just figured it out a few days ago. I haven't had time to figure out if I should do something about it, or just let the feelings die slowly."

"But you _are_ going to tell him, right?" Sehun asks, eyebrows furrowed. "Please don't tell me you're not going to say anything."

There's a tinge of desperation in Sehun's seemingly casual tone.

He scratches his head and looks to the side. "Is it so bad if I don't say anything?"

"Yes. The worst." Sehun states, his voice taking a serious turn. "Don't do that. Not to Taemin."

He turns to look at his friend, and finds the same seriousness in his eyes as in his tone of voice.

Sehun's words sounds so final, for some reason. He's saying it like there's no room for protest—even though Jongin wouldn't protest anyway, because he agrees with him—but he can't help but wonder if Sehun knows something he doesn't.

"I just don't know where—or how—to start," he grimaces, with a long sigh. "Taemin, he's… different. I can't treat him like I treated everyone else in the past, you know? I just can't. Things are different, between us. I don't know how else I could explain it. "

Admittedly, he has thought about some things, in the few days he's had since he realized his feelings. He thought about wooing Taemin, confessing to him, all that stuff. He planned it out, in his head, like he planned out everything else in his life, but everything he thought of doing just seemed too normal. Too casual. Too similar to what they're already doing, almost everyday.

There's really not much left they haven't done together, actually. He and Taemin just have too much history together. Taemin is way too comfortable with him—he always has been. He's comfortable enough to climb into his bed and sleep with him, and to cuddle and snuggle with him without a shirt on, for god's sake. Both when he's drunk, _and_ when he's sober.

Things like that are normal between them, so he doesn't even know if his feelings are reciprocated. He has no way to tell. All the signs he knows of are stuff they have been doing casually for who knows how long, so if he takes things the wrong way and responds with the wrong actions, he risks losing everything.

Everything.

The comfort and support he finds in Taemin's presence, the strong and steady figure to lean on when things get difficult—all of that will be gone. Poof. In one swoop.

He can't even imagine what living like that would be like. Something inside him would probably break forever, without any chance of repair, if he lost Taemin.

"What should I do?"

He needs to know. He's desperate to know, to find a course of action that wouldn't result in him losing his best friend.

He can't explain everything to Sehun in words, but it seems that his friend knows him well enough to catch on to his inner distress, seeing the calm smile he directs at him.

"You're the person who knows him best," Sehun starts. "You know what he likes, don't you?"

He nods. Of course he knows what Taemin likes.

Taemin likes to dance. That's the number one. He likes to work and keep himself busy, for some unknown reason, but he also likes to sleep in and laze around when he has time. He likes cozy, quiet spaces without too many people around, he likes night better than day, and he likes winter better than summer.

Oh. Food. Taemin likes to eat. A lot. Preferably meat, although he's not picky—except when it comes to cucumbers. And carrots. And some other things he can't remember at this point.

Now that he thinks about it, he still owes him dinner. Beef. From that time he made Taemin babysit during his day off.

He's finally starting to see where Sehun is going with this.

"You're getting ideas, right?" Sehun grins, leaning backwards on his chair. "Have someone babysit Jiyeon for a day and ask him out on a date. It's not that hard."

"How is this situation 'not that hard'?" he complains with a huff, after hearing Sehun's words. It makes sense, but he's the one who has to ask Taemin out. On a date. When he doesn't even know what his chances are.

Now that he's actually thinking about this possible date, anxiousness starts to find its way into his heart.

"Like, what if he says no?" he continues, eyes flickering to catch Sehun's. "What if things go wrong?"

Sehun looks at him, and then scoffs.

"Trust me, the only wrong thing you have done is taking way too long to realize your feelings," Sehun shakes his head. "I don't know if that's gonna change things, but I don't think he'd say no if you asked him outright."

Jongin sighs. "He might think I'm just being friendly, though. Everything is too… normal, between us."

"That's because you've been acting like a married couple for too long," Sehun rolls his eyes. "Just say it bluntly, like 'hey, wanna go out on a date with me?' Then there's no chance of him misunderstanding your intentions."

Jongin pouts. "He could get weirded out. Things will get awkward."

"Nah. Probably more surprised than weirded out," Sehun mutters under his breath.

Jongin raises an eyebrow. "You're really confident about this."

"It's not confidence. I'm just looking at things clearly instead of being a blind idiot," Sehun replies with a mischievous smile. That's definitely a jab directed at him, because he feels very offended. "Did I ever tell you that I thought you two were dating, when I first met you? That's how long you've been circling around each other. Over and over and over. It's tiring to watch, you know."

He feels the flush of red creep onto his cheeks again. Sehun is saying that only confirms that this, _all_ of this, including his obliviousness and his idiocy, has been going on for at least ten years. It's both embarrassing and frustrating, at the same time, but he finally understands why Sehun has been teasing him about Taemin so much.

"Fine. I'll trust your judgment," he says. Then, he suddenly has an idea. A form of revenge for all the teasing and the little jabs. "Since you're so intent on helping, can you babysit Jiyeon for a night?"

Sehun gapes at him.

"I gave you all that advice and _this_ is how you reward me?"

"Come on," he laughs, ending with a grin. "It was your idea to have someone babysit her. So I—well, we—can go on a date."

The date that may or may not happen, because he still hasn't asked. He hasn't even figured out how to ask, but that's a problem he'll solve later.

"No way," Sehun rejects, voice clipped. "You have your sisters. Or Kibum. Doesn't his boyfriend coach little kids for a living? He'd probably make a better babysitter than me."

He hums, pretending to think.

"Well, my sisters are busy with their own kids. Kibum and Minho already have their two puppies to take care of—I'd feel bad to disturb them."

"And I have my Vivi. What are you saying?" Sehun protests with an offended expression.

"Please, Sehunnie?"

No matter how much Sehun protests, Jongin's mind is set on this. If he insists enough, Sehun will do it, anyway.

After a pause, Sehun sighs.

"Fine."

Jongin chuckles. Sehun may look cool and detached outside, but he's soft as a pile of cotton inside.

"You owe me," Sehun adds, with another long exhale.

"Thanks," he grins. "You're the best."

 

-

 

"I'm here and I have snacks," Taemin yells into Jongin's apartment, announcing his arrival as he toes off his shoes.

For a moment, he waits at the doorway. Jiyeon usually runs over as soon as she hears him open the door, but tonight, he doesn't hear the familiar little steps thudding from the direction of her room. Instead, what he hears is music playing, barely loud enough to be heard from where he stands by the door. He walks further inside, dropping the bag of snacks he's holding onto the living room couch, before following the sound—to Jongin's bedroom.

The sound gets louder as he gets closer, and when he finally peers into the room, he can't help but let out a chuckle.

Jongin is sitting on the floor, in front of his bed, and Jiyeon is across from him, spinning and bouncing to the sound of the music playing from Jongin's phone. Taemin watches her for a little longer, and it seems like she is… trying to dance.

"What are you guys doing?"

"Oh, you're here," Jongin looks up, finally noticing his presence. Jongin's lips curve up into a very handsome smile, and his eyes twinkle brightly at the same time. It makes Taemin want to swoon, just a little bit. "She's putting on a performance. Come join me."

Jongin pats a spot next to him on the floor, and then keeps the arm lifted in the air invitingly, as if he's just waiting for Taemin to automatically come into his arms. With an amused laugh, he walks over, plopping down right next to Jongin, and as soon as he's sitting down, Jongin wraps his arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer to his side as always.

He can't stop himself from scooting in a little closer than usual, leaning onto Jongin's slightly broader figure for his own indulgence. Not too close, not too far. Just enough.

It's nothing out of normal, really, but ever since the previous weekend—the opening night, and the hangover-ladened morning after—it's gotten harder for Taemin to stop himself from giving in to his own desires. Hopefully, he doesn't come across as anything more than casual. His sense of self-control is at its lowest, and the fact that Jongin welcomes this behavior with open arms is only making things worse. It's like there's nothing stopping him anymore. Not even the negative thoughts in his head that still pops up from time to time. That stupid hope in his heart has already overpowered everything, and it only leads up to expectations that wouldn't be fulfilled—probably.

Recently, he doesn't know anymore; he can't tell if he's just hoping aimlessly like usual, or if this shift in their friendship is actually going somewhere. Jongin has been acting out of normal, getting more affectionate with his touches, getting slightly more clingy, and it's difficult to not think of what that implies, no matter how impossible it seems in his head.

"What brought this on?" he asks Jongin in a whisper. He needs to stop himself from thinking too much. Again. Things are going relatively well, and overthinking will just ruin everything.

Conversation is one way to stop himself from spiraling into another wave of thoughts.

"I have no idea," Jongin chuckles quietly, not wanting to disturb Jiyeon's little 'performance'. "I was just putting on music while cleaning up, then she told me to sit here and started dancing."

Taemin looks behind him towards the half-made bed, and it all makes sense, now.

"Does this mean we have to look for a place that offers dance lessons soon?" he remarks with an amused smile, making Jongin laugh with him. They're still only whispering to each other, though, because they have to at least _look_ like they're paying attention to Jiyeon's 'dancing'.

"Do we even need to, when her Daddy is one of the best dancers in the world?" Jongin replies with a teasing grin.

Taemin shakes his head with a huff. "You're getting so full of yourself, Kim Jongin."

"Well…"

There's a change in Jongin's tone, one that makes him turn to look at his face properly. Jongin's eyebrows are arched beautifully, framing his sparkling eyes. The same handsome smile is still gracing his lips, complemented by the tinge of pink that dusts his cheek.

Jongin clears his throat and looks away, biting his lower lip. His action effectively disrupts Taemin's staring, and he finally realizes that maybe he was looking a little too intently. He just couldn't help himself.

Then, Jongin speaks again.

"What I said just now… I was actually talking about you."

Taemin stills.

And then he blinks.

And blinks again.

"Uh," is all he can voice out, as he keeps blinking, rapidly.

His face is getting warm. His cheeks are flushed red, even though there's nothing to be this flustered about. Jongin has been consistently referring to him as Jiyeon's 'Daddy Taemin' ever since the first time he said it, so he should be used to it, by now.

For a second, he judges himself for being so easy.

So much for not overthinking. With one sentence, Jongin sends him into another wave of hopeful thoughts, even though he knows that Jongin could just be saying his words casually. It wouldn't be too weird, with everything they have done and still do together.

Jongin is lucky he knows him so well. If he was anyone else, he would probably misunderstand.

He still can't help himself from wondering, though, if Jongin is saying all these things on purpose, knowing precisely how it would affect him. He doesn't want to hope for too much and get his head in the clouds, but at times Jongin's words seem to deliberate to be said unknowingly, casually, without much meaning behind them.

Besides, Jongin never says things without thinking. He always thinks before saying anything, and if  he doesn't know how to express his thoughts in words, he'll do it with his actions. Over the years, Taemin has learned how to read him, to know what he wants to say even when he doesn't say things out loud—but lately, Jongin's actions are saying something that he doesn't want to think too much about, because it is simply too frightening. He has no idea if he's reading the signs correctly, or if all the hope in his heart is clouding his judgment.

Music fills in this awkward silence the two of them have fallen into, flowing out of Jongin's phone, serving as the background to the toddler dancing in front of them. But suddenly, even the song stops playing, and for a split second, the silence gets almost unbearable.

Jiyeon becomes the one to save the situation, taking his attention away from his own musings. She stops dancing when the music stops, confused. With a very disappointed expression, she waddles towards the phone, that is lying on the floor in front of Jongin's legs. She tries to press a couple buttons on the touchscreen, but the music doesn't start playing again. She whines in frustration.

"Daddy, pway," Jiyeon holds the phone up to Jongin's face, directly invading his line of sight.

Jongin sighs, but he pulls his arm away from Taemin's shoulders, and takes the phone from her. He misses the warmth that comes from being so close to Jongin, but he doesn't mind losing it for now. He was just about to explode out of self-consciousness anyway.

"Aren't you tired yet?" Jongin asks as he starts up the song again.

Cheering, Jiyeon grabs the phone from Jongin's hands and holds it protectively, as if that will make it continue playing the music, never to stop again.

Inwardly, Taemin thanks her for existing. Her presence is such a welcome distraction to his thoughts. Every time she does something even remotely cute, he stops thinking about anything and everything.

Before she runs off to dance again, he grabs her and brings her into his arms instead.

"Are you not going to say hi to me, hmm?" he teases, poking one of Jiyeon's chubby cheeks.

Playfully, she puts on a thoughtful pout on her face, but it's not long before she lights up into a sunny smile.

"Hi, Daddy," she giggles adorably, swinging her arms around his neck and resting her cheek on his shoulder.

He ruffles her hair, laughing at her antics. "You're so cute, Jiyeonnie."

She laughs bashfully at his words, and buries her cheek further onto his shoulder, smushing it on one side. She looks a little funny, but it doesn't look like she minds. She probably doesn't even know how adorable she looks right now.

"Are you done dancing?"

At first, he thought that Jiyeon would leave after hugging him, because she is still tightly clutching onto Jongin's phone. The song is still playing, right behind his neck, sounding a little too loud, since it's so close to his ear.

"No," she answers, shaking her head, but instead of running off, she stays there, clinging onto him like a koala.

"If you're not done, why are you still hugging me, huh?"

His question only serves to make Jiyeon hug him tighter. The phone she's holding in her hand is digging into the back of his neck, and it's starting to hurt. It tickles a little too; the slight vibration coming out of the speakers making him shiver.

Thankfully, the doorbell rings, right on time.

The sound distracts Jiyeon a little bit, making her pull away to turn towards the source of the sound.

"That's probably the pizza," Jongin says, his words reminding Taemin that he's still sitting there, right next to him. He almost forgot about what just happened a few minutes back, distracted by Jiyeon, but now it's all coming back to him. He shakes it off—figuratively, of course—and forces himself not to think about it anymore.

Jongin gets up to his feet with a huff, looking down at him and pointing at Jiyeon. "Keep her distracted for a bit. I'll go get the food."

With that, Jongin disappears out the door, leaving him sitting on the bedroom floor with a toddler draped against his whole torso.

"Jiyeon-ah," he calls, to get Jiyeon's attention. She's been staring at Jongin's back as he leaves, and her eyes haven't left the door, until she turns to look at him instead. "Can you give me the phone, please? It hurts."

At that, Jiyeon's eyes turn worried. She immediately undrapes herself from him, pulling away completely.

"Daddy okay?" she asks, patting his cheek with the hand that isn't holding the phone.

She's fretting over the possibility of him being in pain. It's cute.

"Yeah, Daddy is okay," he smiles. But he still holds his hand out, repeating himself. "Can you give me the phone, please?"

She frowns and observes every corner of his face first, as if she's making sure that he's okay. Then, in the end, she reluctantly puts Jongin's phone in his hand.

"Thank you, Jiyeonnie," he says, patting her head. He turns off the music and puts the phone in his back pocket. Then he gets up to his knees. "Your dad is getting food outside. Are you hungry?"

"Yea!" she bounces on her feet in excitement.

He laughs. It's just food, there's no need to be so excited.

"Okay, then. Should we help him set the table?" he holds his hand out, and Jiyeon takes it with a bright grin.

She immediately takes off running outside the room, practically dragging him with her. Fumbling to stand up while getting dragged away by a surprisingly powerful toddler turns out to be quite a task; he's lucky he's trained to do complex footwork, otherwise he would probably trip on his own feet and fall.

"I got pizza and chicken as usual," Jongin says when they enter the dining room together, Jiyeon finally slowing down her steps.

The two boxes, one large and one small, are already on the table, although they're still not open yet. Taemin lifts Jiyeon up onto one of the chairs and walks over to the kitchen to grab a couple small plates and mugs.

"What pizza did you order?" he asks as he rummages through Jongin's cabinets. He takes two sets of plates and mugs, along with Jiyeon's kiddy set.

"Your favorite," Jongin replies. "You know, the one with lots of meat."

Somehow, he manages to balance all the dinnerware in his small hands, but as soon as Jongin sees him, he laughs and takes the mugs off his hands, helping him set them on the table.

"Exactly what I wanted. Thanks."

As expected, Jongin always knows what he likes.

"No problem."

Jongin leaves to get a jug of water, and Taemin places the plates on the table one by one, putting the kiddy set in front of Jiyeon before taking a seat next to her. Jongin soon rejoins them with the water, pouring some into each of their mugs.

"Here, Jiyeon-ah," Taemin puts a slice of pizza on her plate once Jongin is seated across the table. "You were hungry, right?"

"Yeah," Jiyeon responds with a little nod, eyes following the pizza.

"Say thank you, Jiyeonnie," Jongin reminds her.

As prompted, Jiyeon looks up at Taemin to say thank you, and then her gaze goes back to the food in her plate, head tilted to the side.

"Do you even know how to eat it?" Jongin teases with a grin. "I never bought you pizza before."

Jiyeon glances at Jongin and pouts, offended. She babbles her complaints at him, eyes blinking and hands waving in the air. When Jongin pretends to ignore her and grabs the box of chicken instead, she gets even more animated with her movements.

It's so adorable it makes Taemin chuckle. "You take it with your hand and eat it like this."

He demonstrates by grabbing her pizza and putting it to her mouth. She chomps on it right away, taking the slice from her hand as she chews. The bite she took was a little too large, and now her cheeks are stuffed with food, but she doesn't stop chewing.

"She looks like a squirrel," Jongin comments offhandedly, laughing.

He only has to glance at Jongin's laughing face once to break into laughter too.

"I know, right?" he says in between laughs. "Why is she so cute?"

"I don't know, ask her," Jongin shrugs, a light grin still in place. "Jiyeonnie, why are you so cute?"

Jiyeon freezes in the middle of bringing the slice of pizza to her mouth when she hears Jongin call her out. She doesn't say anything, but she tilts her head until it reaches her shoulder and smiles shyly, wiggling in her seat.

She's so cute. So beautiful. Her smile is so bright Taemin can barely resist the urge to squish her cheeks—or bring her into a hug. He doesn't do that, though; instead, he lets her continue eating and turns his attention at Jongin instead.

"Can't you just give her to me permanently?" he asks jokingly, grinning. "If all toddlers are like her, I think I may want to adopt one, too."

"No way. I'm not giving you my cute little daughter," Jongin rejects, with his own playful grin. Then, he chuckles. "Also, I never thought I'd hear that from you, of all people. Lee Taemin wanting _kids_ sounds like such a foreign concept."

Taemin laughs.

"What can I do? Jiyeonnie is so cute she changed my mind," he grins cheekily, eyebrows arched. "I think I'll bring her home with me tonight. She likes me better than you anyway, I'm sure she'll be really happy."

Jongin kicks his legs under the table.

"Yah!" he exclaims, pouting. "That hurts!"

"Serves you right for wanting to kidnap my daughter," Jongin huffs.

 

-

 

Later that night, Jiyeon has fallen asleep, which means Taemin can safely go home without her throwing a tantrum. He walks to the door, where he left his shoes, and bends down to put them back on. Jongin hovers behind him all the while; wordless but not so quiet, because he keeps shuffling on his feet, for some reason.

Once he's done putting on his shoes, he stands up to his full height, facing the door, ready to leave. He takes out his phone from his back pocket to check the time, to see what time he would get home. It's not that late yet; it's only barely past ten, he still has time to do some work at home.

Then, out of the blue, Jongin starts speaking. "You know, we could share Jiyeon if you marry me."

Taemin drops his phone.

And then he blinks. Repeatedly.

Until he remembers that his phone has clattered onto the ground.

Immediately, he bends down to take it and check its condition. Good thing his screen didn't crack. The only damage is a scratch on the clear case he had placed his phone in—thank whoever invented casings. He puts his phone back in his pocket, but now, with the little distraction out of the way, his brain is finally processing the situation.

The words he just heard—he actually heard them. He didn't mishear, and he didn't imagine hearing them.

Jongin just suggested marriage. Marriage. Between the two of them. Jongin really just said it out of nowhere, with no warning whatsoever.

_What the hell?_

"Yah, Kim Jongin."

His heart is about to explode from how hard and fast it's beating.

Despite having no idea what's going on in Jongin's head, what he actually means by saying this, he still has to react. He forces himself to turn to face Jongin, and in the split second of time he takes to make that turn, he decides to take the safest course of action, which is to be more friend-like, and not let hope make him delusional.

He needs to calm down. Fast.

"You can't just say things like that."

He's trying to come across as amused or frustrated—because that's a lot more casual than stammering and blushing his words out—but his inwardly flustered self is making it a very hard mission.

When he glances up to look at Jongin's expression, he expects a teasing grin to be directed at him. Grins are normal, casual; unlike the direct implication of his prior words. If Jongin is grinning at him, that means it's a harmless joke. A meaningless one—to Jongin, at least.

However, he doesn't find a teasing grin on Jongin's face. He doesn't find a grin, or anything even resembling one. Instead, he finds that Jongin is pointedly looking at a spot at the wall beside him, as if the plain white paint is the most interesting thing in the world. It is obvious that Jongin is refusing to meet his gaze, because when he tries to shift to enter the other's line of sight, he just moves his eyes somewhere else.

One of Jongin's hands then comes up to cover his mouth and half of his face—but it doesn't stop the flaming red flush of his cheeks from peeking through the spaces between his fingers.

Jongin is blushing _hard._

Even after Taemin blinks three times, the sight still remains the same.

"You…"

Alarms are sounding in his head.

This expression on Jongin's face; it does not match with 'just casually saying things'. It looks like Jongin actually meant his words, like he is still thinking about it at this moment. The meaning behind the words he just heard is screaming in his head—both the direct meaning and the implied—making it impossible to ignore the signals getting thrown at him.

"I— I'm sorry," Jongin stammers, like he is regretting every word that left his mouth. Jongin _never_ stammers like this. "I was just thinking about it— I didn't mean to blurt it out like that."

Taemin doesn't know what to say. He doesn't even think his brain is working properly, because all he can hear is blood rushing to his head, and his own heart threatening to jump out of his ribcage.

"I know it's weird," Jongin still isn't looking at him, but his hand drifts behind his neck, scratching there absently. It's giving him full view of the deep red tinge on his cheeks, and he can't _breathe._ "I was mostly kidding, anyway. Just forget about it and go home. It's late."

What? No way.

"That's impossible," he says sternly.

Jongin may claim that he was just kidding, but the problem is, he doesn't look like he was 'kidding' about this whole thing. Taemin knows him better than that, even when his judgment is impaired by the combination of hope and fear wreaking havoc inside him.

So, he doesn't move. He stays there, standing still in Jongin's doorway, observing as Jongin gets even more anxious due to his mere presence. He watches as Jongin's expression turn from embarrassed to apprehensive, his mind probably whirring, working out another excuse.

Honestly, Taemin doesn't know what to do. He's flustered to no end, and his brain is still refusing to work. In fact, he doesn't know if it ever will start again, if he doesn't calm himself down soon.

Okay.

So. One option is to leave. He could go home. But, he can't just forget about this. It's impossible. He knows himself. He will keep thinking about this moment, mulling over Jongin's words and his expressions over and over by himself, late at night, when he has nothing else to fill his mind.

In fact, that's exactly what he's been doing with everything else Jongin has done in the past couple of weeks. Thinking and worrying about every little detail, getting scared of all the expectations building inside him, but failing to convince himself that he will just be let down again. If he adds this to the long list of things to think about, he's going to stress himself out to the point of overwork again, and even he knows how unhealthy that is.

On the other hand, he could also stay and confront the topic. They could talk things out like proper adults. Even though just the thought of it is terrifying.

If they talk about this—about these things that he doesn't want to imagine—he might have to reveal his feelings. His love, his hope. The love he has kept inside for years and years, the hope that only grow stronger every day instead of rotting away in its cage, all of it.

He's terrified, but he decides to grit his teeth, clench his fists, and push all that fear into the back of his mind.

This has been going on for long enough. He has so many questions that need answers, and he will stay until he gets those answers. He's only getting more confused by Jongin's actions every day, and he needs at least some clarification. Their friendship is clearly shifting; he needs to confirm if it's actually _going_ somewhere, or if he should throw all his expectations away and let them rot like trash.

Of course, he might lose Jongin for good, this time. If it doesn't work out—if he's _wrong_ about this—he doesn't know if he could get past it without leaving, for at least a little while. He's going to have to break off a big part of himself, a significant chunk that has taken root inside every fiber of his being.

But, well, it's a risk he's going to have to take.

Summoning all the courage that swells in him at the sight of Jongin's still reddened cheeks, he roughly takes his shoes back off and barges past Jongin to the living room.

"What are you doing?" Jongin trails behind him, confusion apparent in his tone. "You're not going home?"

"No. We need to talk about this."

He sits on the couch, and looks straight at the man standing in front of him, arms folded across his chest. Jongin shoots him an indignant frown, displeasure obvious in the knit of his eyebrows.

Despite that, Taemin pushes on. "I know you hate being pushed to talk, but I need to get my answers, Jongin-ah."

He watches as Jongin's lips thin out into a straight line, fists maybe shaking and clenching by his sides.

"Do it for me," he pleads. "Please."

It's difficult, but he lets Jongin look into his eyes, to search and see through him. He lets his guard down, hoping with all his heart that Jongin will understand exactly how exhausted he is of this—of hoping, praying, expecting, only to get absolutely nothing—and even though there's a part of him that wants to change his mind and run away, he can't turn back and stop anymore.

A moment passes, and Jongin's stubbornness fades into resignation. The younger man sighs and takes a seat next to him, his posture rigid.

"If you were anybody else, I would have kicked you out already," Jongin mutters, refusing to look at him.

"I know." He knows how much Jongin hates being forced to do something he doesn't want to do. However, he also knows that Jongin would relent if he's the one asking; that's why he is the only one who could pull off something like this. "I'm only doing this because I'm worried about you. You know that."

Jongin nods, wordlessly.

Taemin shifts in his seat to face Jongin's direction, leaning sideways onto the back of the couch so he could look at Jongin properly. Jongin is looking at the ceiling, but at the same time he's not looking at anything. His eyes are unfocused, as if he is looking at something much further away, and his muscles are tensed stiff, fingers curling and uncurling against the sides of his pants.

Jongin looks scared, ready to run away in nervousness, but he is making the effort to stay still, unmoving.

"Can you tell me what's going on, now?" he tries. He makes his voice sound as gentle as possible, to ease Jongin's apprehension. "Please talk to me, Jongin-ah. I can help you out—you don't have to do this alone."

It may still seem impossible to him—he doesn't even want to admit that he is thinking about it—but he has a hunch that he knows what Jongin is going through. He has been through it too, once upon a time; the fear, the shame, the uncertainty, and every possible conflicting emotion running inside his veins at the same time, threatening to break out.

"Haven't you figured it out already?" Jongin finally speaks. The words confirm absolutely nothing, but the meaning lies heavy behind the eyes that are finally staring right at him. "I know you already know. You _always_ know, Taemin-ah."

Taemin blinks away from Jongin's intense gaze. There's too much emotion oozing out from those dark orbs; he can still feel it on his skin even though he has turned away. It's making him shiver.

"I don't know for sure, though," he justifies. "I'm not a mind reader."

Nervousness is starting to seep under his skin again, and he tries to hide it away. Of course, he fails. The fingers on his right hand are starting to curl into themselves, and he has to grab them with his other hand to make them stop fidgeting.

Silence comes between them, weighing heavy in the air.

Jongin lets out a long sigh, eventually. "I thought I could keep it from you for at least another week. I didn't expect my thoughts to slip out like that."

Taemin pauses, before commenting. "That's out of character, for you."

He dares himself to look at Jongin once again, and he gets a little smile in return.

"I know, right?" Jongin chuckles grimly. "Things are slipping out of my control, and I—I've never felt like this, before."

The heavy atmosphere lightens up, even though only by a very slight difference. It quickly drops again when Jongin brings his hands up to his own hair, ruffling them in frustration.

"I don't even know when—or how—it started," Jongin starts, his voice trembling. "It's like, one day I woke up and everything's different. I see things I never used to see, and I feel things I never used to feel. My thoughts even go to places they should never be at, and at first, it was all so confusing."

As he hears Jongin speak, his eyes can't help but drift to Jongin's other hand, lying slack in the space between them. He decides to reach out and hold it, hoping it would somehow give him the strength to continue.

The moment Jongin feels his hand on top of his, he seamlessly shifts his hand and weaves their fingers together, like it's a natural reflex. Then, as if he just realized what he was doing, Jongin stares down at their joined hands in marvel—although there also seems to be a tinge of exasperation in the shadows of his face.

"See this?" Jongin shakes their hands slightly, for emphasis. "I never realized how natural this is, for us."

Taemin is pretty sure that things like holding hands like this, fingers intertwined, is already ingrained in their bodies by now. They have done it since forever, and so often, too—it's weirder if the movement doesn't come naturally.

"But then, suddenly I realized, and everything changed," Jongin tightens his fingers, curling them around Taemin's own. "It still comes naturally, but it doesn't quite feel the same."

"...Is that bad?" he asks, hope soaring into his throat, trickling out through his words.

Jongin seems to be surprised by his question. He clears his throat.

"You said everything changed. That it's different," he tries to explain, even though he can't seem to find any word in his vocabulary to express what he wants to know. He doesn't even know for sure what he wants to hear. "So... Is that bad?"

"I don't know. I just feel like I'm going to lose my whole world if I take one wrong step—and I feel like I just did exactly that, earlier, when I said… you know," Jongin admits nervously, honesty evident in his eyes. "I don't know, Taemin-ah. Everything is getting messed up. I don't know if that's good or bad. It's just kind of scary."

Jongin's gaze pierces into his skin. He is searching for something, and for once in his life, Taemin hides nothing. He doesn't hide any of his feelings, not even the tumultuous waves of expectation that keep rising inside him at this very moment, only waiting for the painful crash to eventually come.

"I know how that feels like," he confesses, after a long pause.

It has been a long time. Years, more than a decade. Even so, he still lives in that kind of fear, every day—the fear of losing everything he has, of losing Jongin, and all he knows from their lifetime's worth of friendship.

"I know how it feels, to be scared of ruining things," Taemin shifts the hold of their hands to rub circles against the back of Jongin's palm. He just needs to do something—anything—to calm his nerves, and this works just fine. "I feel that way, even now. And I don't know if you can see it, but I'm… I'm terrified too, you know."

Another pause hangs in the air, waiting for one of them to break it.

"Why?" Jongin asks.

"Probably for the same reason you have," he chuckles wryly. He doesn't want to lose his world, either. "I mean, I've found a way to deal with it—lock it in far from sight. Make sure nobody can see what I'm feeling, and figure out my limits."

He learned where the border is, where he should step to avoid the edge that should never be crossed. Stepping over the edge means he will fall onto the ground very fast and break into pieces, never to survive.

"Does that work?"

"No," he admits. "It used to, but not anymore."

He can't stop himself, anymore. He's standing at the edge of the cliff, just waiting anxiously for a verdict. If he steps forward, he will fall endlessly, but if he steps backwards, he will never get what he wants. It's confusing, and right now, that's what scares him the most. The uncertainty—not knowing what is going to happen next, not knowing if someone will catch him when he falls.

"But I think it's not bad," he adds, heart beating out of his chest. He can barely keep his voice steady, as he answers his own question, the question Jongin didn't know how to answer.

"The change. Everything that's been different in these past few weeks—none of them are bad. For me, at least," he tries to explain, even though his vocabulary is quickly escaping him. "You can take whatever step you want. I'll always be here. There's no need to be scared."

All he wants to say is that he will be there for Jongin, to catch him if he falls, like he always does. He doesn't want Jongin to feel like he's feeling right now, uncertain, because he doesn't want him to ever go through this pain.

And if he is the reason for Jongin's fall, this time—well, he will just have to jump after him. If they crash together, maybe it won't hurt as much.

He doesn't think he said everything he wanted to say explicitly, but when Jongin looks up, eyes sparkling in determination as they peer into his own, he knows that Jongin understands him anyway. He can't stop a small relieved smile from blooming on his lips.

"I want a lot of things. Too many things," Jongin tightens his grip on his hand. "I keep thinking and thinking, but I can't find a good place to start."

Taemin nods encouragingly. He can relate.

"I only realized this a few days ago. After opening night, when you… you know," Jongin's cheeks flush slightly.

His eyes avoid Taemin's own, a sign that he's embarrassed about something, but Taemin doesn't even know what happened. All he remembers is getting drunk, falling unconscious, and waking up on top of Jongin as usual.

"I'm still realizing and learning new things everyday, but one thing I know, is that I… I love you more than a friend should," Jongin breathes out, looking like he's about to gasp for air in relief once he's done.

"I want to see you smile, to be the one to make you so happy that you will have to live your whole life laughing, because seeing you so happy makes me happy too," Jongin continues, the shade of pink growing deeper on his cheeks. "I want to touch you, hold you, do everything with you—to be with you, by your side, all the time and live my life with you for as long as I could, because I love you so much I'm afraid of losing you."

The words hit Taemin straight in the heart, knocking every single one of his restraints away with one move. Shock, disbelief, joy, relief—so many emotions invade his entire being all at once, and he's paralyzed.

He wants to cry. He _really, really_ feels like he could cry, right now. At this very moment.

He doesn't even realize that he's biting his lip as a last measure of restraint, until the pain alerts him to what he's doing.

"You're making me want to cry," he admits out loud.

He's only barely holding back the tears from flooding out, right now. He has so much unshed tears inside him, suppressed and pooled together from all the years spent waiting, getting hurt, hoping.

Jongin blushes and looks up to the ceiling, as if he's about to cry as well. Knowing him, he probably is about to cry, although he's trying very hard not to show it. Jongin is secretly a total sap, despite the charisma he exudes in front of strangers. A softie in hiding.

"If you cry, I'm going to cry too."

Jongin's words only affirm his suspicion, and he can't help but chuckle. The chuckle ends up sounding more like a choked sob, though, since he's still trying to hold back from crying.

Jongin's expression turns worried almost immediately. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he tries, his voice slightly raspy. He clears his throat. "Yeah. I'm fine. It's just… A lot."

His heart is clenching and swelling against his ribcage. He's unable to breathe, and his lungs hurt from the lack of air—but it hurts so good.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you this soon. I haven't… I haven't figured out everything yet, besides the fact that I..." Jongin trails off, seemingly too embarrassed to continue. Red seems to be the permanent color of his cheeks now, and his hand, the one that isn't in Taemin's hold, goes up to touch the back of his ear—a nervous tick. "I wanted—well, I was planning on asking you out on a date first, before confessing all this to you."

Jongin glances at him, anxiousness spiraling in the dark brown of his pupils. He looks scared, and Taemin knows he should be worried about him, but instead he feels oddly emboldened by this sight in front of his eyes.

"You can still ask me now."

He feels his cheeks swell up into cherry-red puffs to match Jongin's, and it's hard to resist the urge to cover them with his hands. He has no clue if he's grinning, frowning, or anything else; he can't feel much on his face, besides the embarrassing, boiling heat underneath the skin.

Jongin bites his lower lip, hesitating, before he continues. "And what would you say, if I asked?"

Both anticipation and anxiety flow out through Jongin's words, in shades complementary to the crimson on his cheeks. The tension is getting unbearable, and Taemin can't handle it anymore.

"Well, what would you do if I said no?" he finds some courage in him to return the question instead of answering. The light teasing in his tone lessens the tension, if only a little.

"I'd probably cry," Jongin pouts.

Taemin snorts at the answer, but he can't say anything else. If it was him in that position, he wouldn't just cry—he would run off to another corner of the world out of shame as he sobs his heart out, so he doesn't ever have to face Jongin again.

"You're not just pulling an elaborate prank on me, right?"

In the end, he can't help but ask, because everything is too good to be true. He's unprepared for all these emotions to burst out of his chest just from hearing what he has been wishing to hear for years and years—even though he sort of expected it to come, somewhere in his subconscious.

"If anyone's pulling a prank, it's you," Jongin says, offended. "You're not even answering me properly."

He wants to laugh. Hysterically. And maybe cry, at the same time.

"It just doesn't make any sense to me, you know," he lets out in one breath. "Why now? Why not earlier? I've been waiting so long for this—you have no idea."

"...What?" Jongin pauses. His face falls, realization washing over him. "You've—"

"Yeah. It's been a _fucking_ long time," he laughs. He's so relieved, so happy, but also so angry at the world for making him wait _so damn long_ for this. "Years. Don't ask me how many—I can't count right now."

Jongin gets stunned into silence. He opens his mouth, only to close them again. And repeat.

"Do you feel sorry for me?"

Jongin finally stops doing what he's doing, his lips thinning into a flat line.

"No, it's not like that," he shakes his head. "I just— Why didn't you tell me?"

He falls into a pause.

"I didn't want to lose _my_ world—everything I've ever known," he says in the end, smiling wryly. "Sound familiar?"

Jongin looks down at his hands, and falls silent.

The silence lasts a little too long, so he brings up an index finger to Jongin's chin, to grab his attention.

"It's fine. I got used to it, over time. You were happy, that's all that matters," he admits sincerely, watching Jongin's expression soften significantly. He looks like he's going to cry again. A chuckle escapes his lips. "Now that you know... Do you still think I would say no?"

Jongin looks at him and shakes his head. His eyes are shining with unshed tears, but he quickly blinks them away, and shoots him a pout instead.

"I feel like you're petty enough to do that, though," Jongin huffs. "Just for revenge."

Taemin laughs.

"I am," he admits, because it's true. "But I don't want to wait any longer, so please—ask."

He encourages Jongin with a smile, grabbing his other hand, linking all their fingers together. Hesitation finally disappears from Jongin's eyes, replaced with confidence.

"Taemin-ah," Jongin starts. His hands are shaking in Taemin's hold, growing colder and colder as the blood leaves them to pool up at his cheeks instead. "I love you. Do you want to go out with me?"

Taemin can't stop himself from grinning. He can't believe his own ears. It's happening. This is really happening. Even biting down on his lower lip doesn't help him stop them from splitting into a wide grin—both his cheeks and his lips are starting to hurt, now.

Everything is making him want to cry again—but he blinks his tears away before they could even come.

"...Please?" Jongin adds tentatively, a beat later, and he realizes that he's taking a little too much time to respond.

"No," he says, at first.

Jongin stiffens. His eyes widen, and he slumps in disappointment—and Taemin laughs. It's a little mean of him to do that, but he can't help it.

"Just kidding, Jongin-ah," he chuckles playfully. "Yes. I'd love to go out with you. Please."

With a very loud, relieved sigh, Jongin slips his hands out of his hold, to grab his forearm and pull him against his chest. He wraps his arms around Jongin's waist and rests his hands against the small of his back, feeling Jongin's arms curl around him while burying his head in the crook of his neck.

"I can't believe you actually did that," Jongin breathes curses straight onto his skin, sending shivers down his spine. "I was actually scared there, for a second."

"It was fun. I think I'll keep doing it," he teases, but his hands are rubbing at Jongin's back to comfort him, because he thinks he felt a tear drop onto his skin.

He knows he said what he said, but he doesn't really mean it. The joke was admittedly a little too much, for this situation. If he was the one in Jongin's place, he would probably be so angry he'd kick himself out of the apartment.

"I probably deserve it, for making you wait so long," Jongin sighs eventually, pulling back to smile at him. His eyes are glittering wet, but he most likely knows it was just a meaningless, tasteless joke, because he's playing along. "But for the sake of my sanity—how long will you 'keep doing it'?"

When Taemin laughs again, it's mostly out of relief. Relief from all the burden he has been carrying mostly by himself for so many years—more than fifteen years, maybe almost twenty. He feels light and airy, like he could fly.

"For a long time," he smiles. He takes one of his hands off of Jongin's back, reaching up to caress his cheek instead. Jongin places a hand on top of his, to keep it there, and leans into his touch. His heart swells—he's so happy he feels like his head is in the clouds. "Jiyeon will be an annoying rebellious teenager by then, and we'll have two more kids, maybe a dog—but I'll still keep doing that. To keep you on your toes, you know."

"That does sound like a long time," Jongin chuckles, his smile so bright it's making him feel like he's falling in love all over again. Then, Jongin's smile morphs into a teasing smirk. "Are you sure you can handle being with me for so long?"

He scoffs at the question.

"Who do you think you're talking to? I've been with you for over thirty years—I think my track record is flawless."

Jongin breaks into laughter, and soon, he joins in, too.

Jongin looks happy. Happier than ever before. He has never seen him look so happy with anyone else, and the best part is, he is the one putting this smile on Jongin's face. It's making his heart clutch in all sorts of ways.

Somewhere inside him, he still can't believe this is actually happening—that this is reality, not just one of his dreams.

As his laughter fades into a grin, he notices Jongin's eyes drift downwards, his tongue slipping out to moisten his lips.

"Hey."

When Jongin's eyes shift back up to meet his own, he smiles, letting all the hidden affection in his heart spill out, and pulls Jongin in with the hand that is still resting on his cheek. In one swift move, he presses his lips against the soft, plump pair of lips he has wanted to kiss for so long. He doesn't know where he found the courage to do it—maybe from all the joy rushing through his veins, or from the dreamlike state everything is in right now—but he revels in the sensation, feeling his heart beating faster, faster, and much faster.

Jongin seems a little stunned, at first, but it doesn't take him very long to shift closer and sling his arms back around Taemin's shoulders. Jongin pulls him close, _so close,_ fingers carding up through his hair as he moves his lips against his. They're just kissing, but it feels like they are melding into each other, fusing into one being—and this is all so overwhelming.

Damn it all. He can't hold his tears back anymore. He never thought he could ever _have_ Jongin's love, let alone feel it washing over him like this, through every single caress, every single touch.

"I love you," Jongin mutters absently against his lips when they part, gasping for air. "I really love you."

Taemin blinks and discreetly rubs the tears away so he could look at Jongin properly.

 _I love you too,_ he wants to say, but with everything that just happened, all he manages to pull off is a smile; one that probably screams to the world that he is hopelessly in love with this man right in front of him.

He was about to pull Jongin into another kiss, but then he notices something moving behind Jongin's back. He breaks out in helpless laughter when he realizes what—well, who—it is.

He almost forgot that there's another person in the apartment.

"Why are you laughing?" Jongin asks, at first, before he turns around.

Then, he lets out a very long, audible sigh, sounding as helpless as Taemin is.

"Why on earth is she awake," Jongin grumbles, catching sight of the same toddler he is looking at.

Jongin ends up scooting away into a slightly more decent sitting position; a wise decision. They can't possibly let an almost-two-year-old see them in inappropriate positions—even though it honestly wasn't _that_ bad. They weren't even doing anything. Not yet, at least. Who knows what would have happened if he didn't see Jiyeon toddling over.

Wordlessly, Jiyeon comes closer, rubbing her eyes. She passes over Jongin and stops right in front of him, silently looking up at him with shining eyes and a sad frown on her lips. She looks like she's on the verge of crying as she hesitantly raises both of her arms, asking to be held.

In the corner of his sight, he spots Jongin pouting at him, but he pretends not to see and focuses on lifting Jiyeon onto his lap instead. Jongin's lips jut out even further at his action, and he has to hold back a snort at the discovery.

This is fun. He'll note it down for future reference.

Jiyeon clings onto him as soon as she's in his hold, like she's afraid of him letting go.

"Did you have a bad dream, Jiyeonnie?" he asks.

Jiyeon rests her head against his chest, muttering stuff to herself quietly.

"Daddy. No go."

He doesn't know how he understood her when all she said was a string of incoherent words, but he feels his heart break when he realized that her bad dream was most likely about him leaving. He strokes her hair and makes soothing noises to calm her down.

"It's okay," he reassures her. "I'm not going anywhere. Promise."

Right as he says that, he feels Jongin's gaze growing heavier on his skin; so heavy he can't help but look back at him and meet his stare head on.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Despite the crimson tint on his cheeks, Jongin doesn't look away, letting him read into all the gentle affection in his eyes.

"Nothing," Jongin says, with a tender smile. "I just feel really stupid for not realizing earlier."

He chuckles quietly, unable to help himself. "Are you expecting me to comfort you?"

"No," Jongin shakes his head with a little laugh, and then leans in to land a peck on his cheek. "But I'm glad you forced me to talk to you, before it was too late."

It's absolutely nothing compared to what they just did minutes ago, but the little peck makes him blush anyway. A matching shade of pink is appearing on Jongin's cheeks too, and he can't describe how happy he is that he's not alone in this, for once.

"Here, give her to me," Jongin opens his arms in waiting. "I'll put her back to bed."

He peels the now calmer Jiyeon off of himself so Jongin could take her—gaining a protesting whine from her, obviously. Jiyeon immediately pouts at him once she's in Jongin's hold, eyebrows knitted together and chubby cheeks puffed out. He can't stop himself from pushing those soft cheeks inwards, making Jiyeon pout even harder.

"You can sleep, Jiyeonnie," he pats her cheek gently, when he's done playing with them. "I'll still be here when you wake up. Don't worry."

Slowly, her stubborn pout fades, and she resigns herself to getting lifted by Jongin, who brings her up with him as he stands.

"Go take a shower," Jongin smiles down at him. "You know where I keep your clothes."

"Okay," he hums as he stands up too, straightening to his full height. His lips curl up into a cheeky grin. "Should I pull out the spare mattress too, while I'm at it? Or should I take the couch?"

Jongin raises an eyebrow at him incredulously. _"Now_ you ask things like that?"

He laughs, knowing full well what Jongin is referring to. They slept on each other's beds just fine before, and it's not like he wants things to change now. He was just playing around.

"I just thought I'd ask."

"About a nonexistent spare mattress," Jongin rolls his eyes, walking towards Jiyeon's bedroom. "You even helped me throw it out a couple months ago when we were redecorating Jiyeon's room. And don't even get me started on the couch—you hate sleeping on my couch."

Taemin follows behind him, still chuckling. "You know that I'm just kidding, right?"

"I know," Jongin chuckles too, shaking his head. "Now go away, I need to get her back to sleep."

"Okay, okay," he grins, and redirects his eyes to look at Jiyeon instead. "Good night, Jiyeonnie. Sweet dreams."

He strokes her head one more time, as she lazily smiles at him.

"Night-night, Daddy."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the really long wait! I suddenly got busy at work, and I keep getting distracted by one thing or another... ^^;; This was such a difficult chapter to write too; I wrote so many versions of it, but still ended up taking out and adding stuff even up to the last minute. I hope you enjoyed reading this! It may be obvious from where this chapter went, but this fic is ending soon. There's probably only two or three chapters left, if things go as planned ;A;
> 
> As always, comments are welcome ♡ (I slacked in reading and replying to the previous chapter's comments, but I promise I'll get to that soon!)


	7. Chapter 7

_What time do you get off tonight?_ reads the text Taemin receives from Jongin, right as he was opening the lunch he had delivered to his office.

He unlocks his phone immediately, not waiting before he types a quick _Six_ and and sends it along, before sending another text with a _Why?_ as an afterthought.

Thankfully, he's eating alone today, because he couldn't stop the very wide grin from taking over his lips, and he wouldn't know what to do if anyone else saw him like this. He never used to turn into such a lovesick idiot just because of a text. It wasn't like this with Baekhyun, nor with any other people he had almost dated in the past, so he never understood why people got so excited over things like this.

Now, though, he thinks he can understand. The fluttering in his heart, the excitement—they're taking over his whole body, and it feels so nice.

It's noon on Wednesday now, exactly five days and five nights since Friday night, the night he and Jongin started… dating, if he could call it that. They haven't even gone on an official date yet, so labeling it as 'dating' feels a little weird, and 'going out' is too vague. He's not even sure what they are now. Boyfriends? Lovers? The former sounds too casual, while the latter seems too passionate.

He should stop thinking about it too much. No matter which dictionary he opens, he probably won't ever find an appropriate label for his relationship with Jongin.

Plus, even though he's happy—so happy he feels like he's walking on clouds sometimes—the past few days haven't been all sunshine and rainbows. Not for him, anyway.

Fear and insecurities are everywhere inside him, with so much of them having piled up in the past however many years. He knows that Jongin is serious about this, that he's not joking nor lying about his feelings, but he can't help but be wary. Certain thoughts would cross his mind when he's not around Jongin, second-guessing his confession—maybe Jongin read his feelings wrong, maybe he's confusing other feelings for love—and he hates it.

These thoughts don't pop up when he's distracted, though, like when he's at work. It also calms down a lot when he's with Jongin—talking to him, touching him, sleeping next to him. The good thing is that Jongin seems to know what he needs, even without him saying anything. Jongin has been putting in extra attention on him in the past couple of days, actively calling and texting him almost every single minute they are apart.

Even now, Jongin's replies come as fast as lightning, with almost no waiting time in between.

_Just asking._

As he watches the three dots on the screen move, he wonders what Jongin is doing right now. He remembers him saying that his studio is closed today, so he's probably just lazing around with Jiyeon at home or something. For a moment, he actually imagines what that looks like, and just the image is already bringing warmth to his chest. It must be nice. He wants to join in, too.

 _Come home soon,_ says the next text message, bringing him back to reality.

Then, there's the next line.

A very fatal _I miss you,_ followed by a very long string of hearts and crying emojis.

He's torn between laughing, grinning, and blushing. Actually, maybe doing all three of them at once isn't such an impossible feat. His heart is throbbing as if he just finished running a marathon, his spirits flying so high that everyone could probably see him overflowing with joy, if it's not obvious already from his likely crimson cheeks.

 _Whose home?_ Taemin replies after his heart calmed down a little bit, grinning as he types down the words. _Mine or yours?_

 _Doesn't matter,_ Jongin texts him back. _My home is wherever you are._

Ah.

He really doesn't know if he should be cringing hard from how cheesy their lines are—straight out of a chick flick, really—or if he should just continue being too happy to function. Either way, it's not like the red flush under his skin is going anywhere anytime soon.

 _Sap,_ he types, and he could almost hear Jongin's deep laughter when the next text comes.

_You know you love it._

He does. He loves everything Jongin does. But that still doesn't stop him from getting extremely embarrassed.

"Why are you grinning like a maniac?"

The familiar voice belonging to Kibum suddenly interrupts the silence, making him look up from his phone with wide eyes. Kibum is standing at his office's door, an eyebrow lifted and his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Are you texting your husband?" Kibum walks closer with an impish smirk. It's obvious that he caught the embarrassment in his expression—otherwise he wouldn't look so happy.

Taemin puts his phone down immediately. "Jongin's not my—"

"Never said it was Jongin," Kibum cuts him off with a shrug, faking a nonchalant look even though his amusement is obvious. The older man pulls the chair he always uses and takes a seat, quirking his eyebrows. "Although it says a lot about you if he's the first person you think of when you hear the word."

Well.

They _are_ currently in an exclusive—and very, very committed—relationship. So Jongin may not be his husband now, but maybe he will be, someday. Just maybe.

No matter how unbelievable that sounds.

Thinking about this reminds him of what happened a couple days earlier—Jongin just randomly blurting out a sort-of marriage proposal when they weren't even dating—and heat is starting to spread on his cheeks again.

"Your face is red," Kibum points out, as if it wasn't obvious.

He groans, bringing his hands up to his cheeks to try hiding the flush. "What do you want anyway? Didn't I already send you all the stuff you needed?"

"Nothing in particular," Kibum answers with a straight face, although he eventually breaks out into a teasing grin. "I was just passing by and saw you laughing by yourself, so I came in. I thought you finally went insane after all the years you spent pining over that idiot you call your best friend."

Taemin shakes his head. He should have expected that.

"Wow, hyung," he fakes an appreciative look. "I never realized you cared so much about me."

Kibum's face turns sour immediately, knowing that he's not even being sincere about his appreciation.

"Yah! I stayed with you and gave you love advice for fifteen years!" Kibum protests, leaning back on his chair while scoffing. "Not that you followed any of it, you stubborn fool."

He only hums, trying to ignore his friend as he goes into a rant about his stubbornness. Instead he redirects his focus to his phone; he hadn't locked it when he put it down, so the screen is still on his and Jongin's chat room, which is now flooded with texts from Jongin's end, all complaining about his lack of response.

This is all Kibum's fault. Now Jongin thinks he's ignoring his texts again.

_Sorry, Kibum's here._

He types as quick as he can and hits send. Hopefully, Jongin will figure out that he didn't ignore him on purpose; Kibum just decided to distract him and make fun of him at the wrong time.

The reply comes only a few seconds later, but not in the form of a text.

It's a selfie—of a very, very pouty Jongin.

Then, after another few seconds, another selfie arrives—and in the picture is a very, very pouty Jongin, _and_ an addition of a very, _very_ pouty Jiyeon.

He almost whimpers.

This should be illegal. Jongin can't send him cute pictures like this when he's not alone—now his lips are sore from all the biting he needs to do to stop himself from grinning, or making weird sounds in front of Kibum.

Maybe Kibum wouldn't notice if he crawls under his desk to scream for a minute. He could pretend to drop a pen, or a chopstick—

"Cute selfie."

Or maybe not.

He looks up at Kibum, who is peeking at his screen from across the table, a grin fixed on his lips. Kibum didn't even have to lean over too much to see his screen—apparently, while he was busy trying not to explode from a double cuteness attack, his hand lost energy and practically flashed the whole screen at his friend's direction.

He locks his phone immediately and puts it face down on the desk, avoiding Kibum's gaze at once. His face is flaming hot, and Kibum's poorly hidden curiosity isn't making it any better.

"So you were texting your husband after all."

"He is not my husband."

Kibum ignores his protest.

"Well, maybe not, but he's making a move on you."

"He's not."

Technically, that's not a lie. They're already together; Jongin doesn't need to make any more 'moves'. But Kibum doesn't know that—because he hadn't thought about telling him, until now.

"Seriously, are you in denial?" Kibum gives him a very disappointed expression.

He looks almost disgusted with his behavior; he would honestly be a little offended if he wasn't a little amused. It's kind of funny how Kibum is judging him, without knowing the story already developed.

"I'm not, I swear," he says, trying his best to keep a straight face.

"He's completely _smitten_ with you," Kibum states, appalled. "The last time I saw him, he looked at you like you're his sun, moon, and stars—he didn't even pay attention to what his own daughter was doing because he was too busy looking at you."

Unintentionally, Kibum's words take him back to opening night, and he can't help but feel another flush creep up his cheeks. The flowers, the fond looks in Jongin's eyes, the soft touches; everything from that night was incredibly perfect. He wishes the flowers didn't have to wilt so early; he would have loved to keep them forever, as a memento of that day.

"Hey, I'm talking to you," Kibum says, attracting his attention back from his accidental daydream.

He blinks. "Oh. Yeah. What were you saying again?"

Kibum gapes in disbelief. "Yah. You weren't listening?"

"Sorry."

"Should have seen that coming," Kibum rolls his eyes. "I was saying, are you _really_ sure that Jongin's not in love with you? He acts like he is, and now he's even sending you cute boyfriend selfies—"

"He is."

Kibum pauses mid-sentence, cut off by his sudden words.

"He is…?"

"In love with me."

The questioning tone of Kibum's voice makes his cheeks warm yet again. He needs his heart to stop—he's already as red as he can get, he doesn't need more blood on his face.

"He is… That. He does. Ah— What am I saying?" he watches as Kibum's jaw drops, gaping wider and wider with every word of his stammered confession. "I… Well. Yeah. You get it, right?"

"You're kidding me."

"I'm not." He feels the blush growing darker, as if it was even possible. He avoids Kibum's piercing stare. "We… We're together now. Dating. Sort of? I don't know if I can call it dating, honestly, since we haven't even gone on an actual date yet—"

"Since when?"

Kibum didn't bother to listen to the rest of his unplanned ramble, cutting him off before he starts churning out words so fast he has no time to think about them.

"Not long," he answers, calming himself down a little. "Friday."

"Yah! You've been dating for almost a week and you didn't think it was a good idea to tell me?" Kibum practically screams at him, offended. "I can't believe you."

"Sorry," he bites his lip guiltily. "It completely slipped my mind. I had a lot to think about."

Kibum scoffs. "You mean you've been so occupied by your new boyfriend that you forget about your friends?"

"We were friends?" Taemin teasingly lifts his eyebrows, and Kibum throws him another disbelieving look. "Sorry, sorry. I was kidding."

Kibum shakes his head, then shakes his index finger in front of his face. "Don't you dare talk to me."

"Hyung, I'm sorry," he pouts a little, knowing Kibum has a soft spot for it. "You're the first person I told, I swear."

Kibum sighs. "Fine. I forgive you."

"You're the best, hyung."

He returns his attention to the unintentionally abandoned food on the table and grabs a bite. Now that he's done being all embarrassed and panicky, the hunger is attacking his stomach. He needs to eat.

"It must be hard on you," Kibum says, as he watches him eat. "Your feelings were unrequited for so long. It's probably not easy to hear that he loves you back, all of a sudden."

He nods. It's impossible to disagree with that. Even now he still can't fully believe that this is happening—that this is reality, not a dream. It's not that he doesn't want to believe; he has just been miserable for so long that all this happiness feels unreal.

"He's taking care of you, right?" Worry laces Kibum's tone, a rare deviation from the usual teasing and ranting. "He better be treating you well. Fifteen years is a long time. You essentially wasted your youth waiting for him, without knowing if he would ever love you back."

Oh. That reminds him.

"I haven't told him yet."

Kibum frowns. "About what?"

"I haven't told him how long I've been in love with him," he clarifies.

"Why not?"

"I just… I just forgot. I wasn't thinking clearly at first, then as we went on, I just kept forgetting," he admits, looking down. He can feel Kibum slowly but surely getting angry, and he doesn't want to be at the center of it. "But then again, wouldn't it hurt him if I tell? He might just feel guilty."

"I can't believe you. What are you doing?" Kibum glares at him in frustration—he even has to take a couple deep breaths to calm himself. "You've got to stop prioritizing Jongin's happiness over yours. You've been through enough shit for him. Be selfish and take care of your _own_ needs, for once."

The only reaction he can muster is a wry smile. Even he knows that he has suffered enough. He's still feeling the after-effects even now, old habits taking a little too long to break.

"Plus, after everything he put you through, I think he deserves having fifteen years' worth of guilt thrown at his face. All at the same time. It's a lot, but he can go eat all of it, for all I care," Kibum continues with a roll of his eyes. "Does he know who had to suffer from the side effects of his obliviousness and idiocy? Me! I had to work with an emo workaholic for years!"

At first, Kibum's anger was a little scary, but by the time his rant was over, Taemin can't hold back his laughter anymore. Honestly, it's not even that funny, but for some reason, getting scolded by Kibum makes him feel a lot lighter.

"Okay."

Kibum lifts an eyebrow. "Okay?"

"I'll tell him," he says, with a little smile. "And I'll try to take care of myself, too."

Kibum pauses, eyes narrowing at him.

"It's weird to see you so obedient," Kibum says suspiciously. "Are you sick? Is there something spoiled in your lunch?"

He laughs. "I'm fine."

"No, no. This is where you usually turn into a stubborn fool and say _'no, hyung, Jongin is my whole world, I'm happy if he's happy,'_ instead of listening to me," Kibum fusses, imitating his voice.

He can only sigh and chuckle at Kibum's bad imitation because he's right. "I swear, I'm fine. I'll do it. I was already planning on it, anyway."

"Good," Kibum huffs. "When's your first date?"

He shrugs. "I have no idea. We haven't planned it yet."

"Well, whenever it is, I hope he makes it an amazing one. You deserve it," Kibum says, getting up to his feet. "Feel free to hit me up if you need a babysitter."

Taemin's eyes widen. "Really, hyung?"

"Jiyeonnie deserves a good break with her cool uncles and two cute puppies after being subjected to your idiocy," Kibum says, a smile gracing his lips despite the rather harsh words. "I mean, you guys are a mess. Neither of you cook, and you both lose stuff so easily. I'm actually surprised you haven't called me in panic, saying you lost your kid in a park, or something."

Wow. This is actually rather surprising.

"Hyung. Can I hug you?"

"No."

Despite the refusal, Taemin gets up and crosses over the desk to give Kibum a huge hug anyway, practically glomping him, wrapping his arms very tightly around him.

"Yah! Get off me!"

"Nope."

Kibum keeps trying to push him off, to no avail; in the end, he finally softens, no longer refusing the hug.

"I'm happy for you, Taemin-ah," Kibum says, wrapping his arms around him and patting his back.

Taemin smiles. "Thanks, hyung."

 

-

 

"Do you really have to make me babysit on my only day off?"

"Hello to you too," Jongin says, holding his door open for Sehun, who is standing in front of him with a very unamused expression. "Thanks for coming."

"What kind of person would call someone to babysit his daughter only an hour before he has to leave? At least give me more of a heads up—my parents were so pissed when I randomly dropped Vivi off at their place."

Sehun enters the apartment, walking past him towards the living room, where Jiyeon is sitting on the floor, playing with toy blocks, her baby princess 'sitting' next to her.

"I already told you I was planning this date—and look, you're here anyway, despite your complaints."

Sehun ignores him, opting to sit next to Jiyeon and greet her instead. "Hi, Jiyeonnie. Your father is bullying me."

Jiyeon looks up at Sehun, before turning her head to his direction instead, tilting her head with a judgmental expression.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" He plops down next to her and squishes her cheeks, making her scrunch her face. "Don't believe Uncle Sehun. He's lying."

Jiyeon grabs at his wrists and tries pulling them off her face, her babbles muffled by the fact that she can't even move her lips properly. He pats her cheeks twice before letting go, leaving her to rub her face with an annoyed pout.

"Can you play with her while I get ready?" he asks Sehun, who only shrugs at him. "Is that a yes? Thanks."

"I don't even have a choice," Sehun grunts, because before he could complain even more, Jiyeon is already shoving toy blocks at him, telling him to build stuff. Now that they're settled, Jongin leaves them alone and walks to his bedroom to change.

Taemin doesn't know this yet, but he's been planning a surprise date for him over the last few days—a quiet, romantic dinner at Taemin's apartment. He knows it sounds simple—maybe even a little too simple—but it actually isn't, because he's going to personally cook the dishes.

Yes, that's right—he will be cooking everything all by himself, even though he isn't the best cook in the world.

People may be scared that he's going to burn the kitchen, but he had put a lot of work into the learning process—he looked for recipes, pestered his sister to teach him, and ate all of the failed practice dishes—and he's proud of what he achieved. Just yesterday, he managed to get his steak and pasta approved by his sister's family and his mother; his mother even said it was delicious, so it's safe to say that the dishes were a great success.

Despite that, he can't help but regret serving his mother the dishes, just a little. After praising him about how delicious his cooking was, she started asking if he was going to bring a possible daughter or son-in-law home to meet her soon—because she knows that if he's actually learning to cook for someone, they must be very special.

When he told her that he may or may not be dating Taemin, she immediately got excited and started blabbering about how his four-year-old self said _'I am going to marry Taeminnie when I grow up!'_ again and again, even telling his sister about it. He should have kept his mouth shut. He wouldn't be surprised if she already called Taemin's mother and started 'planning the wedding' by now, despite him warning her not to tell anyone else about it—the two ladies can be quite a menace when they're together. Hopefully she actually listened to his warning, for once; he's pretty sure Taemin hasn't talked to his mother about this, and she would be so angry if she had to hear the news from somebody else.

Anyway. It's not the time to be embarrassed about his mother's antics. He still has this surprise date to worry about.

He already bought and prepared all the ingredients he needs to take to Taemin's apartment, plus a nice bottle of wine and a couple of candles. He also confirmed the time Taemin would be going home and planned when he would start cooking. It's going to be perfect—or at least he hopes it would be.

Honestly, he's extremely nervous.

He hasn't gone on a date in years, and he has never put this much effort into any date. Believe it or not, he never learned to cook for a date before. He already knows that he sucks at cooking, so either they cook and he assists, or he would take them out to a nice place to eat.

At first, that was what he was going to do for this date too, to be completely honest. He was going to make a reservation at a nice, fancy restaurant, then pick Taemin up and bring him there. However, no matter how he tried to frame the idea, it just didn't seem good enough. It was lazy, it was overdone—he did the same exact thing with everyone else he dated before, and Taemin knows that.

For Taemin, and only for Taemin, he wants—no, he _needs_ —to do something he has never done before. He wants to impress him, surprise him, and make him look at him with sparkles in his eyes. This date must be special. Perfect. A first date Taemin would remember forever.

So, after a lot of stress, the conclusion he came to was to cook. They would be in Taemin's apartment—quiet, private, very cozy—and they can just do whatever they wanted without caring about what other people think. It sounded rather perfect, in his opinion, since neither of them like crowds very much anyway; but at the same time, he's also still worried.

The idea might backfire—so many things can go wrong, starting from the cooking itself. What if he burns all the food? They would end up having to eat takeout like usual, or worse: they would have to eat badly charred steak and burnt pasta. What if Taemin doesn't think that it's special enough? They're basically just eating at home instead of a fancy, romantic restaurant—maybe Taemin would think that he doesn't want to be seen with him in public. He might also think that the difference of treatment means he doesn't love him or cherish him as much as he did with his exes, even though that can't be more untrue; he loves Taemin at least a hundred times more than he ever loved anyone else. He doesn't even know if what he had been feeling for all those people can be called love, now that he has experienced this with Taemin.

He sighs. There's no use in worrying about this now; it's not like he can change all his plans at the last minute.

Everything will be fine. Probably.

If it's not fine, he'll have to make up for it at the second date—if Taemin doesn't break up with him by the end of the night. He doesn't know what he would do with himself if the date turns out so lousy that Taemin would want to break things off. That is too scary to even think about.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he looks through his closet to find something to wear. In the end, he decides to put on a simple black t-shirt and a pair of black jeans. He'll wear this while he cooks and decorates the place, then afterwards, he will change to the nicer and much dressier black shirt that he just ironed last night. He can't get the shirt dirty; that would be so embarrassing.

"Weren't you going on a date?" Sehun asks when he finally walks back out to the living room, eyeing his outfit in confusion. "You look like you're just going to a casual hang out with your best friend—which, by the way, is not a good message to send when you actually _are_ dating your best friend."

"Don't worry, I have a second outfit," he waves the black shirt he's holding in his hand and drapes it over the back of his couch. "I'm gonna cook, so I might as well wear something like this first, in case it gets messy."

Sehun chortles. "You're _cooking?_ Are you trying to poison him?"

"Yah. I put a lot of effort into it," he grumbles, feeling embarrassment creep onto his cheeks as he goes to the kitchen to grab the ingredients he bought earlier. "I practiced. I've tried cooking everything by myself five or six times by now, and the last two tasted _perfectly_ delicious."

"...I still have trouble trusting that."

He ignores Sehun's last comment and prepares everything he needs instead, double and triple checking his list because he has a tendency to forget things. When he's certain that he didn't leave anything out, he grabs his keys and puts them in his pocket, before kneeling down next to his daughter to say goodbye.

"Jiyeon-ah, I'm going," he tells the little girl. "I'll be back later."

Surprised, she immediately looks up and puffs out her cheeks in a pout. She must not have noticed him preparing to leave, since she was so preoccupied with her play time.

"No!" Jiyeon's tiny hand clutches onto his shirt as she whines, refusing to let him go. "No go!"

With a soothing smile, he strokes Jiyeon's hair. "I really have to go, sunshine. I have to go see Daddy Taeminnie, now. Be good and listen to Uncle Sehun."

Still pouting, she continues her protests, hands flailing and shaking even as she holds onto his shirt. All he can catch from her ramble is 'me' and 'go'.

And something that sounds like 'Tae'—although he's not sure he heard that right.

"You want to go, too?" he asks, getting a powerful nod from the little toddler, her face brightening up. "You can't today, okay? Maybe tomorrow."

Jiyeon's expression visibly deflates. She tilts her head down and looks up at him with a very, very sad face. He could swear she's trying to melt him with her puppy eyes, but he refuses to be convinced, no matter how cute she looks.

She gives up on him in the end, turning to Sehun for help instead. She probably thinks Sehun could stop him from leaving—or make him bring her along.

Sighing, Sehun shakes his head.

"Jiyeon-ah. Come here," the other man says, motioning for Jiyeon to come closer.

When she wobbles closer, Sehun brings her slightly further from Jongin, and they start talking in whispers, as if they're conspiring about something. Jongin can't hear most of what they're saying, but from the way Jiyeon is frowning, eyebrows practically sewn together, it probably isn't something good.

Despite that, after her little conversation with her uncle, she seems to agree on letting him leave, albeit very reluctantly.

"I'll be back soon, Jiyeonnie," he promises when she has toddled back to him. "Be good. Eat your food, and sleep early. Okay?"

"'Kay," she mutters with a nod, cheeks puffed out.

"Alright. Can you give Daddy a kiss now?"

Jiyeon leans up to give him a kiss on his cheek, still sulky. Chuckling, he gives her a quick peck on her forehead and ruffles her hair before getting up to his feet, grabbing all the stuff he needs.

"Take care of her, Sehun-ah."

"Sure," Sehun says, with a little smile. "Good luck with the date. Don't burn Taemin's place down."

He laughs. "I sure hope I don't."

 

-

 

It's a little past six thirty when Taemin pulls up in his parking spot at the apartment building.

While the drive from work wasn't bad, it randomly started raining in the middle of the way. He can't believe how unlucky he is; he literally just took the car to the wash yesterday, and now the car is all wet and dirty again. At least his parking spot is in the basement, so he doesn't have to walk out in the rain just to get inside the building.

Before he gets out of the car, he checks his phone, and gets slightly disappointed when he sees a blank screen, with zero new notifications. It has been a couple hours since Jongin stopped texting him. He hasn't even replied the last text he sent thirty minutes ago, telling him that he's on his way home.

He sighs.

Maybe Jongin got busy with something. Or maybe, he had gone out with Jiyeon—to play or get some food—and forgot his phone at home. Knowing Jongin, this scenario is completely possible; maybe even the most possible. They're basically the same when it comes to forgetting their phones in the most random of places, like inside the fridge, or on the roof of the car. It's disastrous.

He shouldn't be too worried. They don't have to be texting 24/7, and normally he wouldn't even worry about the lack of texts. It's just that Jongin had been constantly texting him until a couple hours ago, and now that he suddenly stopped, he's afraid that the lack of texts means that Jongin is reconsidering… this. Whatever they are doing.

It's stupid. Frankly, his reasoning doesn't even make any sense, but he can't help it. He's overthinking again. He tends to think too much, even though when he tries to voice his thoughts they just end up in a jumble of words that don't even mean anything.

He shakes his head to clear his thoughts, slapping his own cheeks a couple of times to snap himself out of it. After another long sigh, he grabs his laptop and other things from the backseat and gets out of the car. Without much thought, he heads to the elevator and straight up to his floor; in no time, he's already at his door, entering his keycode and opening the door on autopilot.

The moment he enters his apartment, he notices something different; something that makes him stop on his tracks.

It smells like food.

Good food.

It smells like something he wouldn't have in his apartment, because he didn't bring any food, nor did he have any leftovers that would emit such a delicious smell.

The combined aromas of garlic, butter, and various herbs he would never be able to name waft out from inside the apartment, and if it weren't for the fact that the smell is still there, strong as ever, even after he closed the door, he would have thought that it was coming from one of his neighbors.

Even stranger than that is the fact that his apartment isn't completely dark. He remembers turning off all the lights before leaving, and now that it's dark out, it should be dark inside as well. However, what he sees in front of him is a dim, flickering yellow light that illuminates the room, casting long shadows on the walls and on the floor, guiding him to its source, where the light is the brightest.

His silent footsteps follow the shadows to the dining room—and the sight that welcomes him is so stunning he almost forgets how to breathe.

A multitude of candles spread on top of his normally bare dining table, casting gentle, soft lighting in the room. A dark-colored runner lines the center of the table, where a bowl of food—pasta?—sits next to a fancily decorated plate of cut fruits, all contrasted by the red of the place mats on opposite sides of the table, laid under two nicely plated servings of steak and vegetables, with what seems to be garlic and herb butter topping the meat, emitting that delicious fragrance from before—the one that made him drool. Two sets of utensils and glasses of wine lay beside the white plates, neatly arranged, while a bottle of wine stands on one side of the table, already uncorked.

Everything looks beautiful, but what catches his eyes the most is the large, red flower bouquet, resting next to one of the plates.

As if in a trance, he takes a step closer to take a better look. He's hesitant, tentative; for some reason, he is not sure if he's allowed to do this, even though he should be allowed to do whatever he wants in his own house. Lilies, tulips, callas, snapdragons, all in shades of red and dark pink; the bouquet is so beautifully made that he's afraid he would ruin it if he touches even a single petal.

Right at that moment, slow R&B travels to his ears, the quiet sound coming from speakers set in who knows where, and a warm pair of arms snakes around his waist, pulling him back against a familiar chest.

"Welcome home."

A voice deep and smooth as honey whispers a greeting into his ear, and finally, he realizes what's happening.

He should have expected something like this from Jongin—the man has always gotten a kick out of surprising him.

"You scared me, jerk," he relaxes against the other's chest, his hands automatically grasping for the pair resting on his waist.

Chuckling, Jongin rests his chin on his shoulder. "Don't call your boyfriend a jerk."

As the term passes from Jongin's lips—his _boyfriend,_ that's new—he can't help but smile. It feels like a confirmation, like a permission—like Jongin is allowing him to call him his, and it makes him swell with warmth. He lets go of Jongin's hands and turns around in his hold, throwing his arms over his shoulders right as Jongin leans in, smiles still blossoming on their lips as they meet halfway in a sweet kiss.

"What's all this?"

Finally, they manage to pull away; far enough to look at each other, yet still close enough to touch.

"A date," Jongin smiles, so wide that his rarely shown cheek dimples are creasing his skin. "Surprise. Do you like it?"

He turns around to properly look at the beautifully decorated table once again, reaching out to graze a finger against the dark red of the lilies in the bouquet, now that he feels like he's allowed to touch.

"I love it," he answers breathlessly, staring down at the petals as he smiles. Warmth is flooding his veins, traveling all over his body. "I love it, Jongin-ah."

"I'm glad."

When he hears the obvious relief in Jongin's tone, it suddenly occurs to him that Jongin was probably worried about his reaction. Normally, he should be anxious, eager to ease Jongin's worries, but for some reason, he finds it endearing instead—and also relieving, in a way.

Jongin worries, too. He gets nervous, too.

He isn't the only one feeling like this over every little thing they do, whether it's something stupid like texting, or something like… this dinner right here.

"We should probably eat now," Jongin says, his voice a little more confident. He walks past him to the chair on one side of the table, pulling it out as any chivalrous gentleman would. "Wanna take a seat?"

He wants to chuckle at the gesture, even though he's incredibly flattered. It's hard not to feel like chuckling or grinning over every detail, truthfully, because he's just so _happy._

"Yeah, thanks."

He takes a step closer, intending to take a seat, but then he finally notices what Jongin is wearing, and he stops in his tracks, eyes widening.

"You look amazing," he blurts out unintentionally.

He didn't realize earlier, because he was too occupied with everything else in the room, but Jongin looks so good. Really good. Gorgeous. Beautiful. Absolutely _hot._

Dressed in all black, Jongin's outfit hugs his form so well, all the way from the fitted black shirt, to the tight black denim that make his already long legs look even longer. His dark brown hair is styled up in a way that is both messy and neat, making him want to run his fingers through it, preferably right now—and there's that shirt again.

That fucking shirt.

It already looks so hot on him in the first place, and Jongin just _had_ to leave the top few buttons undone, showing him a glimpse of the skin underneath, the smooth sheen of molten gold further accentuated by the dim candlelight.

His throat is suddenly going dry, and he fails to resist the urge to lick his own lips, craving for some moisture. He wonders, at the back of his mind, if Jongin would let him _touch,_ if he asked.

 _Yes, he would,_ his subconscious answers, and he can't agree more.

Shit.

This is torture.

This may sound incredibly cringey, but how can he just sit through dinner, when the man in front of him looks more delectable than any cuisine in the world?

"Are you going to keep staring at me, or are you going to sit down?"

He blinks, and finally returns his gaze up to Jongin's face, instead of roaming all over. His boyfriend—boyfriend, that has a nice ring to it, now that he's permitted himself to think of the word—is blushing, the crimson red of his cheeks visible even under the dark lights.

"Sorry, you just look too good, I… I got distracted."

Despite the self-consciousness Jongin displays, he rolls his eyes. Without any more prompting, he closes the distance between them and takes a seat on the chair Jongin pulled for him while Jongin crosses to the opposite side of the table, and sits at his own seat, immediately putting his hand over the dishes to check on the temperature.

"They're still warm, thank god," Jongin sighs in relief, and he chuckles, shaking his head. They really did waste too much time just touching, kissing, and staring at each other. How much more lovesick can they be? It's ridiculous.

After they wish each other a good meal, Taemin immediately digs in, first to taste the steak, enticed by its appetizing fragrance. The beef is cooked to medium, just the way he likes it, and it melts in his mouth when he finally takes the first bite, the flavor spreading on his tongue as expected.

As he chews, he looks up from the plate to see Jongin nervously staring at him, fidgeting in his seat, watching his every move. He wonders why he's so nervous, but he doesn't ask.

"It's delicious," he says after swallowing the food.

Immediately, Jongin sighs in relief. "Try the pasta, too."

Taemin lifts his eyebrows curiously, but he takes a little bit of pasta and tastes it, as well.

"This is good too," he gives his honest comment, observing Jongin's reaction—another relieved sigh. Odd. "Where did you get all this food? They're really good—we should go eat there, sometime."

Jongin pauses. Avoiding his stare, Jongin brings a hand up to scratch his ear.

"I made them."

He nods absently in response, at first. So Jongin made the food, that's great—wait. Wait a second.

"You _made_ them?" he chokes. He has to hit his chest, hoping the food doesn't go down the wrong pipe. "You mean—"

"Yeah. I cooked everything," Jongin confirms, another pink blush appearing on his cheeks. "I got the fruits pre-cut at the store, but I cooked and plated everything else myself."

Taemin can't do anything else but gape at the man sitting in front of him. He's speechless. He stares at the food laid out on the table, then up to Jongin's face, then back down again.

He can't believe it—he must have jumped into some sort of an alternate universe. Jongin isn't the best cook in the world. In fact, he's horrible, almost as horrible as Taemin himself is; he never would have imagined that Jongin could make a meal so delicious that he practically mistook it for dishes bought at a restaurant.

"Uh. That's… okay, right?" Jongin's nervous mutter fills the pause between them. "I'd understand if you'd rather eat at a restaurant instead, I was just… I'm sorry. You can forget about this; I—I'll make a reservation anywhere you want. For next time. Or now—we can go out right now—"

"No. No—what are you saying?" he cuts Jongin off, eyes widening and hands flailing in protest. "This is amazing, Jongin-ah. This is perfect. You personally _cooked_ all this for me, that's—I love it."

Jongin stills, and avoids his gaze yet again.

"...You say that as if I never cooked for you before," Jongin says tentatively, biting his lower lip.

"Cooking this kind of meal and actually making it taste good takes a lot more effort and practice than just scrambling eggs and frying ham. Even I know that."

Jongin must have practiced a lot. Cooking-wise, both of them are at similar levels, and he knows that he can't pull off anything that tastes as delicious as the food Jongin made for him. Just the fact that Jongin put so much effort into this makes everything a thousand times better; a thousand times more meaningful than going out to eat at some expensive restaurant.

In front of him, Jongin is still fidgeting apprehensively, so he reaches his hand across the table to hold onto one of Jongin's, their fingers naturally intertwining as always.

"You know, I would have been satisfied even if our first date just ended up being another lazy night in, with us sitting here doing absolutely nothing as usual—but you went above and beyond. You did all this, for me, and I just… love it. So much. Thank you."

Jongin grows increasingly redder with every word that slips past his lips, and he can't help but blush too, embarrassed after letting so much of his thoughts out just like that.

"You're welcome," Jongin replies, when he's calm enough to speak again. "I was… I was worried I'd have to come home a single man tonight, because of this."

That sounds so ridiculous Taemin can't stop the laughter from bubbling in his throat.

"You do realize that I know how horrible of a cook you are, right?" he laughs hard, almost bending over the table. "I mean, I love you despite the fact that you have fed me burnt omelettes and weirdly flavored ramyeon before—what makes you think I would break up with you over this absolutely delicious meal?"

Jongin pauses, only blinking and staring at him instead of saying a word. Jongin's stare is intense; it's as if his gaze is penetrating his skin, and he suddenly feels the urge to hide out of embarrassment.

"What?" he asks, hesitantly. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Quietly, Jongin starts speaking. "You… You haven't said that, before. That you love me. You haven't said it out loud."

Taemin blinks. Self-consciousness turns into realization, and then turns into a full-on blush that spreads all the way to his neck.

Jongin's right. He never said those words to him before—not in any form. He implied it, sure, but he hadn't said it out loud in the past few days, even though he has been in love with Jongin for so long.

It's a habit—one that he needs to break, now that they're in a relationship. He had gotten so used to suppressing it, trained himself _not_ to say the words when it comes to Jongin, not even as a casually thrown sentence. It has only been five days—that's not exactly enough time for him to break the habit—but tonight, all the love Jongin is showering him with got him comfortable enough to come out of his shell and say it. He didn't even have to think about it; it just flew out.

"Well, I do."

At first, he wanted to look down at the food, or do something else so he doesn't have to look right at Jongin, but he feels like that isn't the right thing to do, so he keeps his chin up and stares right into his lover's eyes.

"I do love you. More than anything. More than how much I love how much effort you put into this dinner we're having—and that's a whole lot, because I'm really enjoying this food."

Slowly, Jongin's lips split into a grin, one that is so wide his cheeks probably hurt, his eyes shining, candlelight flickering in his dark brown orbs. Jongin looks so incredibly happy after hearing him express his love out loud, that not even all the doubts pooled up in the back of his mind can fool him into thinking that Jongin doesn't love him back.

"I love you too," Jongin sounds timid and confident at the same time; he wonders how he could do such a thing. His eyes crinkle as he laughs. "Now let's eat—I really want to hurry and cuddle with you already."

Taemin smiles and chuckles. "You stole the words right out of my mouth."

 

-

 

Taemin is beautiful.

Jongin knows this. He knows this for a fact.

Despite that, Taemin's beauty never fails to surprise him, even at the strangest of moments. It never fails to make his breath hitch, to make his heart race, to make him wonder why he didn't notice sooner.

See, Taemin isn't even doing anything. Neither of them are.

They have been doing absolutely nothing for the past hour, just lying on their sides, facing each other. Slow music plays in the background, a quiet sound coming from Taemin's laptop; a playlist left on shuffle, neither of them bothering to pick and choose.

Right now, under the dim lights, Taemin looks positively ethereal. His features are strong and delicate all at once; shadows contouring the sharp planes of his jaw, as the light hits his cheeks just right. Jongin thinks he can stare at this face forever; study it every morning and every night. In the future, Taemin's laugh lines will probably get deeper, wrinkles slowly appearing on his skin, showing his age as they get older—and still, Taemin would be beautiful.

He lifts a hand to gently place it on Taemin's temple, pushing away the dark bangs falling over his eyes. It's reminiscent of that one night, when he unconsciously did the same exact thing, entranced by Taemin's magnetic draw on him. However, this time, Taemin is fully conscious, his eyes opened and staring back at him, eyes sparkling as if galaxies lie within them. Taemin smiles and leans into his touch; Taemin looks happy, content, and there is nothing more he could ask for.

"What time are you leaving?"

Taemin takes hold of his wrist and turns, lips murmuring the words against the inside of his palm.

"Not anytime soon."

He doesn't even bother to check the time, too focused, too immersed in Taemin's presence. Eventually, he will have to leave—to go home, to take care of his daughter—but not now, and not soon, either.

Taemin hums lazily, his fingers loosening its hold around Jongin's wrist to travel up his arms, to his shoulder, and down to his chest. He rests his palm right over his heart, staring at that particular spot, as if it's something fascinating.

"Your heart," Taemin says, voice as quiet as a whisper. "It's beating really fast."

"Of course it is."

It's his turn to hold Taemin's wrist, this time; to keep his hand there, to let him know that his heart is beating like this for him, and only for him.

"Jongin-ah?"

"Hmm?"

Taemin is still looking down at his own hand as he speaks, feeling every beat and every skip his heart makes.

"This isn't a dream, is it?"

Taemin's voice sounds so dreamlike when he asks the question, that Jongin had to ask himself the same, first. This moment feels almost unreal, yet at the same time, it feels very real. He can feel Taemin right here, in front of him, his whole presence surrounding him.

"It's not," he answers, in the end. "It's not a dream."

"...That's great," Taemin murmurs, with a slight quirk of his lips. "I wouldn't know what to do, if I wake up tomorrow morning only to find out that this was a long dream."

There are so many things left unsaid in Taemin's words, the weight behind the words evident through his tone, seeping out slowly through the cracks.

"You won't," he assures. "I'll still be here."

Taemin hums, and says nothing else. They bask in the silence, filled by nothing except the sound of their breaths, and the music faintly resounding in the room.

One song fades and another starts; the cycle repeats, yet they stay still, drowning in each other's eyes, content with feeling each other's touch, even without the presence of words.

If the man lying next to him was anyone other than Taemin, they would be having long conversations, about life, about whatever they want, just to know each other better. He would be asking questions, and getting asked questions in return. But with Taemin, silence is comfortable. Words are appreciated, but unnecessary. They do just as well without; their connection strong enough for them to understand each other, even without exchanging words.

It's odd. It's new.

It's amazing, this type of feeling.

"Jongin-ah," Taemin starts again. His index finger trail against exposed skin, tracing down his sternum from his clavicle, only stopping when he hits the snag of a button. "Wanna know something?"

"What is it?" he murmurs, not letting Taemin wait for an answer.

Taemin toys with the button on his shirt, his eyes tracking every movement of his own finger instead of meeting Jongin's gaze.

"I never thought I could be this happy," his lover whispers, a quiet confession. "I never… I never imagined that something like this could happen to me."

He frowns in reaction, resting his hand on the side of Taemin's waist. "Why?"

"Fifteen years of waiting take a toll on someone," Taemin says with a wry smile. He blinks, and then shakes his head, slowly. "Imagining you falling in love with me, when I knew perfectly well that you would never… That used to be... scary."

"—Fifteen years?"

The words stab him right through the heart, realization sending prickles through his veins. He never noticed. At all. He knew that Taemin had been waiting for a long time, but fifteen years? He doesn't know how that is even possible.

"Unbelievable, isn't it?" Taemin finally looks up at him, pain flickering in his eyes for a split second, before it disappears. "I think I was nineteen when I realized I was in love with you."

His fingers unwittingly clutch tighter around the fabric of Taemin's shirt as reality hits him—the length of time Taemin has spent waiting at the sidelines, hoping to be noticed; to be read just like he always read through him, to be understood just like he always understood him.

"That's…" Almost half their lives.

Nineteen. They were so young, back then. They weren't even professional dancers just yet, still a couple of college boys who loved to hang back in the dance studios long after closing time, pouring all their lives into dancing, feeding off of each other's energy.

"Can I… Can I talk to you about it?" Taemin sounds hesitant as he asks, as if he was preparing for the worst.

"Yes," he answers, without thinking about what this decision will bring—without considering all the pain truth would bring him, because he would do anything, if it meant Taemin's burden would be lightened.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Please," he reaffirms, hoping his certainty is conveyed through his eyes. "I'm listening."

Taemin pauses, staring at him in silence. His eyes search into his gaze, as if trying to find an answer, and he lets him look—even though he doesn't know what he is searching for.

A long, long moment later, Taemin sighs, his eyes unfocused as he looks back to the past.

"You said those words a lot."

"What words?" he asks, and immediately feels stupid when he realizes what Taemin is referring to, right after the question leaves his lips.

"'I love you,'" Taemin says, looking at him with a grim smile.

His heart traitorously skips a beat when Taemin says the words, even though he knows that he's just talking about the phrase, instead of really saying them.

"You said them a lot, in the past. To me. When you're happy, when you're thankful—whenever you feel like saying it," Taemin goes on. "You said those exact words so many times, yet I knew. I knew it never meant what I wanted it to mean."

Taemin gives him a helpless smile, shutting his eyes tight for a long second, before he continues.

"It was fine, before I realized that my feelings were…" Taemin trails off, biting his lips, then shaking his head. "But then, you started falling in love with people, and I realized, and I… couldn't do anything but watch. Over and over. For more than a decade."

Taemin lets out a wry chuckle, interrupting himself.

"I spent years listening to you tell me that you fell in love—with someone else—even though I loved you so much I would do literally anything for you. Isn't that stupid?"

Suddenly, he finds Taemin staring into his eyes, and for a moment, he wonders if he was supposed to answer the question. Even if he was, though, he couldn't find his words, all of them hitched in his throat, refusing to come out.

"I can't even count how many times I wondered—why wasn't I good enough? What was it that I lacked, that you had to turn to others to search for love?" Taemin recounts, his voice almost cracking. "Every time you break up with someone, you talk about how they didn't understand you. But If all you wanted was to be understood, why didn't you fall for me instead? I understand you. I know you. I get you; you and all your stupid quirks. So, why did it _always_ have to be other people, and not me?"

The slight quiver of Taemin's voice slowly breaks into a more powerful tremble as he speaks, sending a razor-edged splinter of guilt into Jongin's heart—stabbing and twisting its way in deep, growing larger and larger with each attempt Taemin makes to choke a sob back inside his throat.

He can't imagine what it's like to be in Taemin's place, having to listen to the person he loves talk about other people all the time. How did he even manage to hide it so well? He would have found it impossible, even at the very start.

"At one point, I gave up on you, you know? For the past six years, I even thought I was over it all. But, as it turns out, I was just distracting myself—tired myself out so much, that I didn't have time to think about how much I loved you," Taemin says, lips thinning and eyes scrunching as he tries not to cry, not to get too emotional. "I tried. I tried so many things. I danced until I can't think about anything else, I worked my ass off on so many choreographies that have never seen the light—hell, I even tried dating someone else—but nothing worked."

Another shard finds its way inside him as he digests Taemin's words, realizing a very important fact.

Baekhyun— Taemin dated Baekhyun.

Baekhyun was someone Jongin introduced to him, because he wanted him to date someone, because he didn't want him to be single forever. Taemin loved him, yet he personally told him to date someone else—that must have been the most painful form of rejection. How could he have done that to Taemin? Taemin, out of all people—Taemin, the one person who deserves the world.

He hates himself. If he was in Taemin's place, he would have punched himself for doing that, and would have left him to suffer a long time ago, wishing for him to rot in hell on his own.

 _You could have just told me,_ he wants to say. It would have saved Taemin so much pain; he could have been lived his prime years in happiness instead of such misery.

But, at the same time, he knows he shouldn't say that. He already knows how Taemin would answer. Things were not that simple. Taemin knew him—he still knows him. Taemin probably knew what he would do, if he had confessed his feelings outright.

He would have sacrificed everything, anything, even his own feelings, to make Taemin happy. He would have tried to love Taemin, and even though he naturally fell in love with him anyway fifteen years later—fifteen years too late—he doesn't know how things would have turned out, if that was how the situation ended up rolling out in the past.

And knowing Taemin, he definitely would not have wanted him to love him out of pity—or out of some strange sense of loyalty and obligation, because they were best friends.

"You don't have to say anything," Taemin says, as if he knows that he's trying to figure out what to say. Taemin places a hand on his cheek, gently stroking a wayward strand of hair away. "I just needed you to listen, to hear my side of the story. I want you to understand me, too—to know how hard this is for me."

It's so hard not to break down into tears when Taemin finally looks at him and lets him see the glimmer of unshed teardrops in his eyes. Taemin hates crying, and most of all, he hates it when people see him cry—he thinks it's shameful, ugly, not something others should see. It may be twisted, but for some reason, he finds relief in the fact that Taemin lets him see, instead of hiding everything by himself, like he did in the past fifteen years.

Fifteen years—he still can't believe it.

"I know you love me back, now," Taemin lets out a small chuckle. "And it's in the past, so it's not like we can change anything."

"But still," he protests, his vocal cords finally working again. "I just— I feel like I need to say something."

"There's no need," Taemin shakes his head. "All I need to know is that you're here. I don't need anything else—especially _not_ an apology. You can't help it—it's love, and you can't force love."

He knows that. He knows that he can't force love, and he also knows Taemin doesn't want to hear him apologize. That much is clear from the way he's acting, the words he's saying.

But, nothing stops him from feeling guilty about being happy all by himself, for so many years. Taemin was suffering right next to him, and he didn't even know. Even if he wasn't in love with Taemin back then, what kind of best friend was he? He should have _known._

"I don't think I can even say that I was suffering. I was happy, most of the time. Dancing with you, it was the greatest alternative I could have wished for," Taemin says, like he was reading his thoughts and responding to it, his eyes shining. It's eerie how Taemin can do that, sometimes. "It's just that I'm not used to being so happy that I feel like I'm floating to the sky. It's weird, you know. Strange. It feels unreal, and I might need some time to fully convince myself that this is truly happening."

He sighs, and as he looks into Taemin's eyes, he knows that he needs to say sorry.

Not for his sake, but for Taemin's—because no matter how much Taemin dislikes the idea of an apology, he knows that he needs it, anyway.

"I'm sorry."

He cups Taemin's cheeks, preventing him from looking away.

"I'm sorry for being so late," he continues, feeling the tell-tale sign of tears wet the corners of his eyes. He hates how much of a crybaby he could be, sometimes—he's not supposed to be the one crying, here. "I'm sorry for not realizing, for not noticing how you felt, all this time. I may not have been able to do anything, but I was still your best friend—I should have known. So, above everything else, I sincerely apologize for being a _shit_ best friend to you for the past fifteen years."

He watches as Taemin's eyes flicker with emotion, torn between laughing and crying, and he knows that he made the right decision.

"I want to make it up to you," he tries. He has no idea if this will make anything better, if this will lighten the weight in Taemin's heart, but he needs to at least try. "I _will_ make it up to you, and spend the rest of my life doing so. I want to make you happy. As happy as you have made me in the past… however many years."

Taemin really was the reason of his happiness—he knew how to make him happy. Even when he was at his weakest, darkest moments, Taemin picked him up, piece by piece, and stitched him back together, nursing him until a scab forms over the wound, until he's all good to function again.

"I love you, Taemin-ah," he says, desperation leaking into his tone when he realizes that Taemin might not believe him.

As Taemin pointed out, he has said these three words so often that they don't necessarily have to mean what Taemin wants it to mean, and right now, he needs Taemin to know that he _means_ it. Everything.

"Maybe this sounds like empty words to you. Maybe it sounds like it means nothing—but it doesn't change the fact that I fell in love with you, even though it may be a little too late," his lips quirk up into a smile, and he's relieved when Taemin's lips mirror the action. "You're the one. My soulmate. My partner in life. I don't plan on leaving you, and now that I have found you—seen you—I'm never looking for anyone else. Ever."

Taemin only stares at him in silence, lips twitching and eyes blinking.

"...Do you even hear yourself?" Taemin mumbles, his voice hoarse. "It's only been five days—how can you say so much cheesy stuff already?"

Jongin can't help the way his lips jut out into a pout.

"I don't care," he huffs stubbornly. "I love you. I'm in love with you. I will always love you."

Taemin's cheeks and ears grow redder and redder every time he repeats those three words. It's fascinating, so he keeps repeating it over and over—until Taemin finally hits his chest in protest.

"Stop it. Stop being a sap."

He laughs, but he refuses to stop.

"I love you, Lee Taemin," he repeats again, mustering all his emotions and dumping them into the simple confession. "I love you—and I will keep repeating this for you until you believe that this is happening, no matter how long that takes."

Taemin smiles at him, already looking much lighter than before.

"You realize that this could end badly, right?" Taemin asks, his hand trailing to rest at the crook of his neck. "If we break up, even our friendship wouldn't exist anymore."

"Weren't you just boasting about your pristine track record, just a few nights ago?" he teases, drawing back when Taemin glares at him. "It won't end badly. We'll work it out and make it last. This, us, it won't have to end—until death do us part."

The moment the last few words leave his lips, he sees Taemin's eyebrows quirk up in a way that would normally worry him. It's a sign that he's about to get teased into oblivion, and if he's not too busy being glad that Taemin is feeling better—good enough to feel like teasing and making fun of him—he would have rolled off to another room before he was subjected to all the incoming embarrassment.

"Jongin-ah," Taemin begins, a teasing lilt accompanying his words, exactly as he expected. "Why does that sound like a wedding vow?"

Despite everything—the situation, the context, everything—he feels his face heating up by itself, blood pooling on his cheeks, spreading crimson all the way to his ears and down his neck.

However, even in his embarrassment, he can still say what he needs to say, to convey that he's serious about this.

"That's basically what I committed to, when I decided to do this," he says in a tone that may have been a little too tender. Taemin looks surprised, taken aback by his words. "I know it hasn't even been a week since we started dating, and I'm probably getting ahead of myself, but I already know that I want to marry you, someday."

Taemin blinks at him, red blossoming on his round cheeks.

"You always say that, though. When you start dating new people. Every single time."

He frowns. "No, I don't."

"You do," Taemin gives him a _look,_ and rolls his eyes. "You always go like _'oh, Taemin-ah, we're such a great match. I think she's the one,'_ then you end up breaking up, and guess who had to pick up the pieces and put them back together?"

His lips part to respond, but he has nothing good to say. "You don't have to make jokes about hurtful things, you know."

It's a horrible timing to joke about this. The sudden attack pierces through his gut, and it would have hurt a lot more if he didn't know that Taemin was kidding.

"I know," Taemin sighs and bites his lip bashfully. "It was a bad joke."

After shaking and waving the words away, he wraps his arms around Taemin's waist and rolls onto his back with a grunt, pulling him on top of him in a single move. Taemin looks down at him, pupils blown, hair falling over his eyes again. He strokes them away, at first wanting to tuck the longish strands behind his ears, but decided to play with them in the end, fingers carding through Taemin's black hair.

"We should never be apart," he looks into Taemin's eyes, and finds himself lost in them, his only connection to reality being the feel of Taemin's soft locks around his fingers, and the electric touch of Taemin's hands against his chest. "We'll both be broken if we part, so let's stay together forever."

A fond smile graces Taemin's lips. "And you're back to the marriage talk."

He laughs. "Isn't that what got us here? Me randomly blurting out a proposal?"

Taemin joins in his laughter, shaking so hard that he has to drop his whole weight onto him, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck.

"I love you, Taemin-ah," he says once again, when their laughters have fizzled out.

Taemin pauses in the beginning, his eventual response murmured against his skin.

"I know."

"I don't deserve you," he adds, a beat later.

Taemin snorts. "I know that, too."

He can't help but huff when he hears Taemin's cheeky reply.

"You were supposed to contradict that," he lightly hits Taemin's back, getting a short chuckle.

"I'm an honest man. I can't lie."

Taemin lifts his head, but only far enough for their faces—their lips—to be within inches of each other. If he just leans up a little bit, or if Taemin leans in—

And there it is—Taemin leans in, so he refuses to waste any more time. He welcomes the kiss and immediately pulls Taemin closer, as close as they can possible get, wanting to feel every inch of him—and like that isn't enough for him, Taemin licks into his mouth, intertwining their tongues in a way that makes his brain short-circuit, right then and there.

Somehow, sometime later, he manages to flip them over, Taemin huffing out in laughter as his back hits the bed. Taemin's eyes are gleaming, sparkling like black diamonds, his fingers grazing up and down Jongin's spine as their lips move against each other's, caressing his nape and clutching onto him, as if he would disappear if he stops touching.

"I think I have to ask again," Taemin says as they gasp for air. "What time are you leaving?"

Good question, but he can't answer that. Not right now—not when he's preoccupied with trailing butterfly kisses along Taemin's jaw, heading up towards his ear.

"What time do you want me to leave?"

"Never," Taemin admits breathlessly as Jongin nibbles on his earlobe, licking up his ear and going back down to suck at that one, specific spot on the skin right underneath, making Taemin curse under his breath. "Can't you just—stay here? Tonight?"

"I don't sleep with people on the first date," he points out, only in good humor—because god knows how much he wants to stay here, to fulfill each and every one of Taemin's wishes.

"Your actions are in conflict with your words," Taemin calls him out on it. He may or may not be concentrating on sucking a mark onto Taemin's skin, but he can still see the way he is rolling his eyes, just by hearing the way he speaks. "But well, I don't sleep with people on the first date, either."

"Should I just go home, then?" He lifts himself up, resting his weight on his elbows, staring down at Taemin with a light smirk.

A red-purple bruise is blooming on Taemin's long neck—right under his ear and way, way above his collar line—and somehow, it feels incredibly satisfying to see the result of his own handiwork on him like this.

"Nope." As if reading his thoughts, Taemin replies him with another sly smirk and swiftly pulls him back down, a short laugh sneaking past his red, swollen lips as they meet his halfway.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me 21 days to post this and I'm SO SO SORRY for the long wait! I was supposed to post this 9 hours ago ;A; I know some people got excited and stuff so... I apologize... I have no excuse..... ;;;;;;;;
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this second-to-last chapter! There's a severe lack of Jiyeonnie here, so I'm kinda mad at myself for writing it this way (ಥ﹏ಥ) I am hoping the last chapter doesn't take another month to write, but if it does, feel free to pester me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mlchlwhite) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/melancholywhite) every day... although I tend not to check my cc, so hmm 6v6 On Twitter I talk (well, rant) about writing a lot, too, so if you want status updates, that's where you should go!
> 
> Comments are appreciated, as always ♡ I'll try to reply back to every single one I receive :3


	8. Chapter 8

Taemin wakes up at the crack of dawn, light from the barely rising sun filtering in through the windows.

He doesn't know why he is awake. He's tired, so technically he should be asleep until the sun is high in the sky, but this morning, his eyes open at an hour that is much too early, and no matter how he tries to close them again, sleep refuses to claim him back.

So, he doesn't go back to sleep. Instead, he turns to lie on his side, his eyes fixating onto the form of the man lying next to him; his best friend, his lover. Sound asleep, Jongin rests on his back, his chest slowly rising and falling with every breath, his lips curved up into a small smile. Jongin looks calm, content—and although there's a trace of exhaustion lingering under his eyes, all the time he spent juggling work and parenting starting to catch up, the happiness written onto his features overpowers everything else.

It's surreal, to be waking up with Jongin lying next to him like this.

Of course, he has woken up next to Jongin many times; hundreds, maybe even thousands of times. He has woken up next to Jongin with a bad hangover and on the floor after Jongin kicked him out of his own bed, but even though he has lived through almost every possible scenario, he had never imagined that one day, he would wake up next to Jongin after a long night of sweet, sweet pleasure, his heart absolutely and completely consumed with bliss.

A sudden burst of emotion threatens to devour him, catching him off guard. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, swallowing all the feelings away until a smile is the only thing that lingers on his lips.

Last night was everything he had never dared to hope for. It still feels like a dream, even though he knows he is awake, even though he can still feel the way Jongin touched him, felt him, wrapped his fingers around him, bringing him to heights he had never reached on his own. Jongin whispered soothing murmurs into his ears, every coherent and incoherent word heavy with love and desire; his lips trailing to places they had never been, setting fire inside him, making pleasure bubble up in his throat until it could no longer be suppressed.

Nothing can possibly describe how he felt—how he still feels. It was amazing, it was addicting, and yet it brings him fear; fear of everything being taken away right after he had gotten a taste of it, fear of losing Jongin now that he's had him.

He wonders if he should have waited a bit more before jumping right in, before willingly giving his everything to Jongin, but he doesn't think he could picture this relationship unfolding any other way.

Being with Jongin is not like being with anyone else, not that he had ever let anyone else touch him the way Jongin did, to reach into the deepest parts of him and take him, to fill every part of his being with passion. It's not like fooling around in college apartments during house parties, touching and kissing whoever seemed interested, nor is it like that one month seven years ago, the month he never talks nor thinks about, when he convinced himself that searching for random drunken flings was a good way to forget—although in his case, all of his attempts ended up failing anyway, and he had to resort to throwing himself into his career.

With Jongin, it was so easy, too easy, to give his trust. He didn't even hesitate to let Jongin do anything and everything, knowing that Jongin would never hurt him willingly, that he cares about him too much, loves him too much to do so. He knew he wouldn't have been able to resist anyway, overwhelmed with his emotions as he was, desperate to confirm and reaffirm Jongin's feelings towards him. All his emotions intensified to the point of tears—happy, relieved tears; all the pent up hope, desire, and love inside him charged all the way to the extremes, so much so that he feels like he might cry again at this moment, as he recalls the memory that is still fresh in his mind.

He looks at the man lying next to him and can't stop his hand from drifting closer, to snuggle closer against his lover's arm, to lay his fingers on his skin, desperate to feel the reassuring waves of comfort that comes from having Jongin near him. His eyes follow the circular movements he draws on the other's chest, the touch barely holding any weight, and hopes Jongin doesn't wake up, not now—he looks too exhausted to be awake at such an early hour.

Despite that, a few moments later Jongin stirs, shifting closer towards him to seek warmth. His eyelids flutter open, and for a split second Taemin's heart stops, nervous that Jongin would rouse and catch his secret touches, before he remembers that he is allowed to touch, that Jongin has given him permission to touch everything, anything he wants to touch at any time—before he remembers that just last night, Jongin even asked and begged him to touch the most intimate parts of his body, and that he had let himself indulge in everything he had always wanted but never dared to do. The thoughts that sneak into his mind at the reminder do not fail to bring heat to his cheeks, his mind slowly getting tainted with slightly less than appropriate ideas.

Taemin can't help but sigh in relief when Jongin's eyes slip back shut without a word, his eyelashes casting shadows onto the top of his cheeks. Jongin looks so calm, so peaceful; he doesn't know how long he stares, how much time he spends focusing on every twitch of his eye, every quirk of his lips, but he couldn't bring himself to look away—until a buzzing sound distracts him from the dreamlike reality.

Slightly disoriented, Taemin looks around for the source of the sound, to find it coming from Jongin's phone, lying on the nightstand at his side of the bed as it vibrates unceasingly against the wood. At first, he thought that it was just an alarm, that it will turn off on its own eventually, but then he realizes that it's too early, and that alarms make a sound—so it's either a barrage of of texts or a call. It's probably the latter, as can be heard from the regular pattern of the vibrations.

Jongin grunts, but doesn't make a move to get up and take his phone, instead choosing to bury his face into the pillows as if it will make the buzzing stop, lips pursed into a pout.

Honestly, it's adorable.

It's so adorable that Taemin can't bring himself to wake him up, to make him answer the call. He stays where he is, unmoving, looking at Jongin with a fond smile until the buzzing stops.

It's fine to let a call go unanswered once in a while. It's still early anyway.

At first, that's what he thought—but then, the buzzing starts again.

This time, the vibration pattern is different, and the sound comes from right behind him instead of Jongin's side of the bed, which means that it's not Jongin's phone that is ringing, it's his.

He lets the phone ring once, twice, thrice, before he sighs and reluctantly leaves Jongin's side, to at least check who is calling. It's too much of a coincidence for both of their phones to be ringing right after another, and anyone who knows to call him when Jongin doesn't answer his phone must be close enough to them to know where Jongin went, or where he might be.

That is why he isn't surprised at all to see Sehun's name displayed on his screen, although it is weird of him to be calling so early in the morning. The clock on his phone reads 5:13 am, and nobody in their right mind would be awake at this hour.

But then again, Jongin did mention that Sehun would babysit Jiyeon until around midnight, so maybe he's calling to complain about all that overtime. After all, it's not like Jongin planned on staying over—or at least that's what Taemin figured. He doesn't know how far Jongin planned the night, since he didn't even know that the date was going to happen in the first place.

With one last glance at Jongin's sleeping form, he sighs again and gets out of bed, to take the call outside. It's kind of cold; he pulls part of the sheets out of Jongin's grasp and covers himself as he walks out, stopping in the hallway, closing the door behind him.

"Hey—" He cuts off his own raspy greeting, because the first thing he hears when the line connects is a lot of shushing noises and the sound of a little girl crying in the background. Worry creeps up into his chest, constricting his lungs. "Is everything okay?"

"Thank god you picked up," Sehun's voice travels through the speakers, much clearer than before. "Sorry. I tried to call Jongin, but he didn't answer."

"He's still asleep," he explains, a frown forming on his lips at Sehun's urgent tone. "Did something happen?"

"Jiyeon," Sehun says, his sentence interrupted by more shushing noises. "She woke up and went to Jongin's room but no one was there—and now she's been crying for half an hour. I just can't get her to calm down."

Taemin feels his own face fall.

The picture is so clear in his mind, Jiyeon entering Jongin's room, climbing onto the bed to find it empty. He can see her face contort in a mix of emotions before the tears start to fall, having seen the same sight multiple times whenever he has to leave, to go home for the night.

"Do you think you can handle it?" he asks, trying not to let the panic seep out. What if she thinks that Jongin has left her behind too—abandoned her, leaving her alone? His heart breaks just from imagining it. He doesn't want her to ever feel like that.

"I'm not sure," Sehun answers him, and he really does sound unsure; it brings no calm to his heart.

Jiyeon is still crying in the background, and right now, the only solution he can think of is for her to see Jongin, but when he recalls how Jongin is sleeping like he hasn't slept in a hundred years, exhaustion printed into the creases on his face, he can't even think about trying to wake him up.

"Can you just—" he ruffles his hair, not knowing what to do. "Just… bring her here. Yeah, that would be fine, right? It's just a ten-minute drive anyway."

To hell with not panicking. Jiyeon is obviously not okay, and he is allowed to worry because over the weeks and months, he has grown to think of himself as her father, too. If Jongin can't go home to see her, she can come here to see him instead.

"I think I still have some of her essentials here, so just make sure to bring her dolls to distract her during the drive," he continues to absently fire off instructions to the phone. "—and can you let me try talking to her?"

She can't talk to Jongin right now, but he's available—and maybe, just maybe, she'll calm down after hearing his voice.

"Yea, sure," Sehun replies easily.

After a short shuffling noise and Sehun telling her that it's her 'daddy' on the phone, Jiyeon's voice finally sounds through the speakers.

"...Daddy?" she hiccups, and it's even more obvious that she has been crying. "-dis Daddy?"

"Yes, Jiyeonnie. It's me," he says, unintentionally speaking softer, gentler. "Are you okay?"

"Yea…" she trails off, and then there's a rustling sound, probably from her shaking her head. "No."

He can see her pout in his mind, and he frowns, biting his bottom lip. "Do you want to come here? Will you be okay if you see me and Daddy?"

"...Yea," Jiyeon answers after a pause, the line crackling again with that same rustling sound. She hiccups again as she speaks. "Me, Daddy—yeah."

"Alright, then pack your stuff, okay?" he says. "Uncle Sehun will bring you here."

"...kay," she mutters. "Baby go—me?"

Jiyeon babbles at him, her tone questioning, and Taemin smiles.

"Yes, your baby can go with you. Bring your teddy too, okay?"

Jiyeon murmurs an affirmative response, and he can hear that she isn't crying anymore, even though there are still traces of a sob in her voice.

"I'll see you soon, Jiyeonnie. Bye-bye."

"Bye-bye," Jiyeon hums, and there's another shuffling sound, speakers crackling as the phone changes hands.

"How do you do that?" Sehun asks incredulously once the phone is in his hold again. "You calmed her down in like, two minutes."

"Experience, I guess?" Taemin shrugs to downplay it, but for some reason he feels pride swell up in his chest. It feels like an achievement; a final realization that he could actually be a good parent, too.

Now that Jiyeon is calmer, they quickly wrap up the call, so she and Sehun can prepare to leave. Looking at the time, it will probably be another fifteen minutes until they arrive. He goes back to his bedroom, figuring that he could take a quick nap before he has to get up for real and open the door.

To his surprise, when he enters the room, he finds Jongin with his eyes blearily open, staring at him from where he's lying on the bed. His lips are jutted out into a pout, and as Taemin comes closer, he lifts an arm up to hold it out in the air, an invitation waiting to be fulfilled.

Chuckling, he lets the sheet he's covering himself with drop onto the floor and climbs back in bed, slipping under the blankets and shuffling right into Jongin's arms. Jongin, as expected, immediately wraps all his limbs around him, nestling his head at the crook of his neck, despite being the taller one between them.

"Do I look like a teddy bear to you?" he asks, amused.

He trails his fingers up Jongin's spine, feeling the goosebumps traveling on his skin. Jongin doesn't answer his question, only humming against his neck.

"Why'd you leave," Jongin mumbles, his already quiet and raspy voice muffled even further by Taemin's own skin. It tickles a little, the way Jongin's lips move against his pulse.

"Sehun called," he explains. "Didn't wanna wake you up, so I took the call outside."

Jongin grunts, nuzzling him. "Should've just ignored him."

He chuckles, stroking the back of Jongin's head, carding his fingers through his lover's hair.

"I was going to, but I'm glad I didn't," he says. "It's Jiyeon. She's been crying because she couldn't find you."

At that, Jongin suddenly goes into full alert.

"Is she okay?" Jongin lifts himself up, propping up his weight on an elbow. "Do I have to—"

"She's fine now. I talked to her for a bit," Taemin cuts him off, reaching up to stroke his cheek. Jongin immediately calms down as he hears him say that, sighing in relief. "I told Sehun to bring her here so we can watch her, but if you still wanna sleep, it's fine. I'll take care of her."

He smiles and watches as Jongin's lips quirk up into a smile of his own. Jongin's face is slightly puffy and his features are softened with sleep, but Taemin can still feel the fondness radiating towards him in ripples as Jongin leans down to let their lips meet.

"You're the best," Jongin murmurs against his lips and kisses him again. "I love you so much."

For a moment, Jongin's words take him back to the past, to all the times he heard these exact words and had to tell himself that they didn't mean anything.

Now, he doesn't have to tell himself anything, and the contrast, the difference, is striking. He can let himself sink under all the love Jongin gives him, and he is incredibly grateful for this turn of fate, for whoever and whatever that let him have the chance to experience this once in his life.

"Mm, I love you too." Feeling all his emotions bubble up once again, he smiles into Jongin's next kiss, and attacks him with a peck of his own. "Go back to sleep, Jonginnie. You look super tired."

Amidst soft kisses and subtle touches, Jongin dozes off, head pillowed on his chest and arms wrapped around him. When his phone vibrates again with a text from Sehun, announcing his arrival, he has to carefully peel Jongin off of him, moving gently so he doesn't wake him up, even though his worry about Jiyeon's condition has quickly resurfaced, making him rush to the door. In his rush, he almost forgets that he's not wearing anything; he backtracks to pull on a random shirt and sweatpants from his closet, roughly putting them on as he walks out of the room.

When he opens the door, he finds Sehun's arms empty—so his eyes automatically drift down to where he finds Jiyeon's tiny figure, standing right next to Sehun with a sulky pout. She looks up at him, her eyes shimmering in recognition, and finally takes a couple steps forward to hug his leg, her dolls dropping to the ground.

"Daddy," she cries, repeating the word over and over again, until he bends down to lift her up into his arms.

"Hi, baby," he coos, coaxing her tears away. "I'm so, so sorry. Were you scared?"

Jiyeon nods, then shakes her head, then nods again; she can't seem to decide how to answer, so she settles on a pout instead, rubbing her eyes as she blinks.

"It's okay now. You're here. Daddy's here," he strokes her head, hugging her closer to calm her down. Eventually, she stops tearing up, and her lips break into a small smile. "Daddy Jonginnie is inside. Wanna go inside?"

"Yea," Jiyeon is already pointing towards the inner part of the apartment, wiggling her body to get him to move. "Daddy, me go—"

Before he could do anything, he finds a baby princess and a teddy bear shoved into his arms, and he finally remembers that Sehun is still here.

"Oh, right. You can come in," he says to the other man, his arms full of toddler and dolls.

Sehun shakes his head. "Nah, it's okay. I'm going home."

"You sure?" Taemin lifts his eyebrows. "It's early—if you need to sleep, I have a spare bed."

"It's fine. I was supposed to be home five hours ago anyway," Sehun rolls his eyes, and Taemin chuckles.

"Sorry about that."

"It's fine," Sehun says, eyes lowering to a specific spot on Taemin's neck before he grins. "At least you guys seemed to enjoy yourselves."

Taemin can't help the flush that spreads on his cheeks. He doesn't need to look in the mirror to know how he looks right now; he still remembers where the marks Jongin left are located, obvious traces of what they were doing last night.

"Daddyyyy," Jiyeon whines, impatient to get inside. "Me go~"

"Wait a second, Jiyeon-ah. Wait," he bounces her in his arms a little, to make her stop struggling away. Normally, he would just let her down and allow her to run inside by herself—she's familiar enough with his apartment to know where the bedroom is—but she can open doors now, and he doesn't know if Jongin is still sleeping, or if he already got up to get dressed.

"I'm gonna go now," Sehun interrupts, gesturing to the elevator in the end of the hallway.

Taemin nods and smiles. "Thanks for taking care of her. You deserve a long break."

"I know, right? Tell Jongin I demand extra vacation days this year," Sehun huffs, making a laugh escape Taemin's lips.

"I will. See you," Taemin grins. "Jiyeon, say bye-bye to Uncle Sehunnie."

Jiyeon glances at Sehun, blinking for a moment before she mumbles. "Bye-bye, 'cle Hunnie."

"Bye, Jiyeonnie. We'll hang out again later, okay?" Sehun's face melts into a soft smile as he raises a hand to give Jiyeon a high-five. Taemin has never seen his younger friend look so soft, but apparently Jiyeon has the power to turn everyone into mush.

They all wave at each other and see Sehun off, before going back inside the apartment. He brings Jiyeon to the living room, letting her sit on the couch with her dolls. As soon as she sits, she starts looking around, trying to find something—or someone.

"Looking for Daddy?" he asks, sitting on the couch next to her and pulling her onto his lap. When she nods and questions him in rapid fire babbles, he smiles. "He's still sleeping, so we have to be quiet, okay? Shhhh."

Jiyeon nods in understanding and copies him, before she interrupts herself, her lips parting into a huge yawn. Taemin can only chuckle and coo at how adorable she is when she starts pouting afterwards, annoyed at herself.

"Want to sleep?" he asks, smiling when she nods. "You can sleep now. Daddy is here."

He cradles her in his arms, letting her rest her head against his shoulder as he tries to put her to sleep with soft strokes on her back. Jiyeon falls asleep almost immediately, her breathing slowing down; he lets himself get comfortable on the couch and closes his eyes too, trying to get a shut eye, now that he no longer has to worry about Jiyeon feeling lonely.

Moments later, right as he was about to drift off to sleep, he hears a door creak open, followed by the familiar quiet sound of Jongin's footsteps. He opens his eyes just in time to see Jongin come closer—only wearing a pair of sweatpants that was probably stolen from his closet, his defined torso on full display.

It's hard not to stare, to be completely honest, but when he remembers that he has a toddler in his arms and that it's not the time to let his thoughts wander, it's pretty easy to force his eyes up to look Jongin in the eye.

"Wanna join us?" he offers with a smile.

Jongin nods to accept his invitation and sits right next to him, one of his legs hiked up onto the seats as he scoots closer.

"Why didn't you just bring her to our bed?" Jongin mumbles, resting his forehead against Taemin's unoccupied shoulder, wrapping his arms tightly around him and Jiyeon.

Taemin spaces out for a slow second, not expecting Jongin to refer to his bed as theirs. It brings warmth to his heart, making him almost forget that he hasn't responded to Jongin's question.

"We haven't changed the sheets," he says in a hushed voice, more of a reminder to himself and to Jongin than an answer.

Jongin looks up, eyebrows quirked.

"Why would you need to change the—" Realization washes over Jongin's expression, his eyes widening as pink tints his cheeks. Neither of them bothered to clean up the bed last night, falling asleep right after messily wiping all the fluids off of each other's bodies. "Oh. Right."

Taemin chuckles. If he could move his arms, he would pat his lover's cheeks, intrigued by the way it's growing redder and redder, but sadly, he can't.

"So? Do you want to do that, so we can have her sleep in there for a couple hours?"

Jongin stares at him with a pout for a long, long time, but in the end, he sighs and gives in. "Fine—but I want my good morning kiss first."

"I can't move," Taemin fakes a pout, looking up at Jongin from under his eyelashes. Jongin isn't the only one who could look adorable with puppy eyes. "Why don't you come a bit closer and take it?"

Jongin blinks at him, clearly taken aback, but he snaps out of it soon enough, stealing a peck from his lips.

"Morning," Jongin smiles against his lips before pulling away. "Meet me in there in a few minutes."

"Mm-hmm."

-

Days turn into weeks, and spring turns into summer.

Four weeks have passed since he and Taemin started dating, but Jongin hasn't stopped wondering how he could be so lucky to have Taemin in his life.

Everything is the same, yet different, at the same time. Their relationship comes like second nature to both of them, their decades of friendship amplified a thousand times into what he is very sure to be a life-long partnership. Being with Taemin is so easy, so effortless—it feels so great to be with someone who knows him to his very core, and it's even better with him and Taemin, because the understanding goes both ways.

It's not like he didn't expect this to happen, when he realized he had fallen for his best friend. Somewhere inside him, he knew that not many things would change after they started dating. Maybe it's because they already did so much with each other, even way before the romantic feelings started taking form—which sometimes makes him question his own feelings and wonder if maybe he had been in love with Taemin this whole time without even knowing. For them, things like curling up in bed with each other during cold nights was a normal thing to do since they were children, and neither of them cared very much about how it looked to other people once they grew up—then there's their habit of incessantly touching each other all the time, something others have pointed out, but he used to shrug off as normal, saying that's just how their friendship worked. The latter should have been a rather telling sign—because normal friends don't touch each other the way they do and especially don't feel empty inside when they're not touching each other—but he was an idiot and didn't pay attention.

Interestingly, in the middle of all this normality, despite everything he already knows about Taemin and his habits, he still has so much to discover about him. Finding these little quirks hidden inside Taemin that would never have come to light if they hadn't entered a romantic relationship has become a new hobby of his, the satisfaction of learning something new about Taemin being something he hadn't felt in a long, long time. Without this change of status, he would never have figured out how Taemin likes to be kissed, where to nip and suckle to make him gasp in pleasure, or known how amazing making love with Taemin feels, how intoxicating coaxing every little whimper and every little moan out of his lover's beautiful lips could be.

Aside from all that, he also wouldn't be sitting in his living room while his daughter is taking a nap, missing Taemin so much that he's doing nothing more productive than thinking about him, wondering what he's doing right now, imagining and planning what they would do once they have time to meet again, because Taemin has gotten busy again in the past two weeks. With the company's annual summer tour fast approaching, he's always in the studio training his dancers. If Jongin had a free schedule, maybe things would have been fine. He would adjust to Taemin's schedule if he could, but he is incredibly busy too, with his studio's dance camp coming up soon.

For the past few years, they have gone through this same exact situation and survived not seeing each other for at least a month, but this year, being apart and busy with their own lives feel a thousand times harder than usual.

It's not just from the fact that they are so much more attached, now that they are no longer just best friends but also lovers; he can deal with missing Taemin—or he tries to, even though he's already failing—but more than that, he misses spending time with Taemin and Jiyeon as a family, if he could just go ahead and use that label. Recently, their conflicting schedules don't allow them to spend as much time together as they would like. He wants to go back to a couple weeks ago, when they had the free time to lounge on the couch after a relaxed dinner and watch Jiyeon babbling and reacting to the kiddie movie she's watching for the hundredth time.

It doesn't help that Jiyeon keeps asking for her 'Daddy Tae' to come home, missing him as much as Jongin does, even though he and Taemin keep telling her that _no, Taemin can't always be here, he has to go home;_ to Taemin's own home, because they don't live together—not yet.

It sucks, really. Sometimes, he even considers asking Taemin to move in with him permanently—so Jiyeon won't miss him as much and so their schedule conflicts won't matter anymore—but the rational part of him keeps telling him that _it's only been a month you lovesick idiot, it's still too soon, Taemin wouldn't want to._

In reality, though, Taemin would probably say yes, even if it is kind of soon. It's not like they've never lived together before; it will be just like the good old days of sharing a small dorm room in college, except with larger beds and larger rooms, an addition of an almost-two-year-old daughter, and the fact that they'll be sharing a bed, sleeping next to each other every night.

Living with Taemin again sounds so nice, and the more he thinks about it, the more he wants to ask. Maybe he will ask, later, if he doesn't get too nervous, too scared of being rejected. Not now.

At that moment, he hears his front door clicking open, interrupting his fantasies. Like a side effect of too much imagination, the voice in the back of his mind screamed _Taemin's home_ at him as the quiet footsteps resound from the doorway—even though it's more reasonable to think that it's his mother coming to visit, bringing food with her, because she does that quite often.

Despite him second-guessing himself, when he turns in his seat, looking back to see who decided to come by, he finds that his first instinct was proven correct.

Taemin stands by the partition that separates his doorway and the living room, looking much more presentable than the haggard zombie he looked like the last time he dropped by, when he was smack in the middle of his chaotic, tiring schedule. It's surprising to see him here right now—it's the middle of the day, Taemin's busy, he should be at work—and Jongin's heart speeds up, excitement starting to pool up inside him because Taemin is here, appearing right as he was thinking about him.

"You're early."

A weak smile blooms on Taemin's lips as he crosses the few steps of distance between them, plopping down on the couch right next to Jongin—right where he belongs.

"Yeah. Hey," Taemin says, pecking Jongin's lips in greeting. Taemin lifts both of his legs onto the couch and wraps his arms around him, before resting his head on his shoulder. "Is Jiyeon taking a nap?"

"Yeah, she's in her room," he answers. In an almost reflexive motion, he brings an arm around his lover's waist to pull him closer, to soak himself in the warmth that is almost uncomfortable in the heat of the summer, but very much needed after being apart for _days._

"I'm so tired," Taemin mutters with a groan. "They finally left today."

Taemin doesn't explain much at all, but Jongin quickly sifts through all the information he knows and finally remembers that today is the day Taemin's dancers embark on their tour. Relief flows into his heart and his mind—this means that Taemin won't be so busy anymore, his schedule relaxing into one in which he has more freedom to leave work early.

"That's great. And everything went well so far?"

Taemin hums. "As well as it could go, I guess."

A pause ensues, creating a short lull in their conversation.

"You know, usually right now you'd be fussing over the details that weren't fixed in time before they left," he observes, chuckling.

Taemin chuckles with him and snuggles closer to his side. "I was too excited to go home and see you to care about all that."

Jongin blinks—and then he blinks again for the second time, not knowing what to say.

Hearing Taemin say words like this despite the obvious exhaustion anyone can hear in his voice makes joy crawl into his chest, growing and growing in number, threatening to make him burst and explode. He's so happy, so glad to know that Taemin misses him too.

"I have to leave soon, though."

It's too bad that he isn't as free as Taemin is yet. With only a week until the dance camp starts, he has to spend a lot of time in the studio to work out the final details. Sehun and the others they hired specifically for this annual event can work fine on their own, but he has his responsibilities too; not to mention that they're still sort of understaffed, since the number of dancers who registered for the camp had doubled compared to last year.

A little surprised, Taemin pulls away, a pout emerging on his plump lips.

"But I literally just got here," Taemin unintentionally whines, and Jongin can't help but bring his hand up to ruffle the other man's dark hair.

"Then you can play with Jiyeon when she wakes up."

"No," Taemin whines again, playfully and intentionally, this time. It's making him wonder if it's necessary for Taemin to be this adorable right now. It's not good for his heart to be skipping so many beats. "What if I want to play with you instead?"

Taemin puts his chin on Jongin's shoulder, still pouting as he is looking into his eyes, and he's suddenly so, so close. Heat travels up Jongin's veins to his head, clouding his judgment, and he's starting to see figurative pink clouds everywhere, surrounding the two of them.

His willpower is never strong enough to resist Taemin's charms; it's proven once again when he's unable to stop himself from kissing his boyfriend's delectable lips. Taemin smiles into the kiss, and it's so obvious that he finds amusement in Jongin's recently growing addiction to kissing him—until Jongin starts nibbling at his bottom lip and inserting his tongue into his mouth, making him gasp; it's one of the hidden quirks he recently discovered.

"I missed you so much," he murmurs against Taemin's lips as they part, satisfied with sharing their breath for a moment before their lips meet again.

"Me too," Taemin breathes, stealing a peck before he continues. "Let's go on a vacation. After your dance camp is over."

When Taemin says this, Jongin realizes once again how great it feels to have someone who understands him. He doesn't have to elaborate more, to tell Taemin what he wants—to tell him that he wants to spend lots and lots of time with him, whether if it's at some fancy vacation or just at home—because Taemin gets it, just from him saying a simple phrase like 'I missed you'.

He hums in contentment, leaning his forehead against his lover's. "The three of us?"

"Mm. Us and Jiyeonnie," Taemin says, smiling. "We can celebrate her birthday too, since that's coming up."

He smiles. Jiyeon is turning two soon—a week after his dance camp ends—and the timing is just perfect.

"That sounds good."

"Great. I'll look for a place."

-

 

Lazy Saturday afternoons are made for naps. Taemin swears by it, and it feels like it's been forever since he's had enough spare time to do what he's doing right now, quietly lounging on his bed while Jiyeon naps next to him, having dozed off after hours of playing and laughing.

Time flies by quickly, and it's already the last weekend of Jongin's three-week summer dance camp. Since Jongin's gotten very busy, they arranged to have Jiyeon dropped off at Taemin's apartment every weekend on his way to work, and then he'll come back to stay over, and repeat until Monday comes. He and Jiyeon never did much in the past few weekends they had to themselves; they stay in to watch television and play with some toys, or walk to the playground in the nearby park in the mornings. Thankfully for her, his cooking skill has progressed a little, after forcing himself to cook for her all the time—well, all he can make properly is fried rice with various types of toppings, but that's still better than nothing.

It's almost dinner time when Jiyeon wakes up, her eyes blinking open lethargically. She sits up on the bed in sluggish motions, rubbing her half-opened eyes as she looks around the room as if she's trying to figure out where she is. Like this, she looks so much like Jongin, and he can't stop the smile that blooms on his face.

"Hello, sunshine." At the sound of his voice, Jiyeon turns to look at him, her eyes slowly but surely starting to focus on his face, until she yawns widely, her eyes scrunching shut again. "You slept for so long—are you a bear or something?"

Jiyeon pouts and shakes her head from side to side, her messy hair flying everywhere.

"No…" she mumbles, her voice sleepy. "Daddy bea'."

Taemin can't help but laugh. She sounds _so cute._ "Oh, Daddy is the bear? Which Daddy? Me?"

Jiyeon shakes her head again as she blinks repeatedly to chase her drowsiness away.

"Not me? Then, Daddy Nini?"

Taemin can't remember when she started recognizing their names, but she does. She calls them Daddy Tae and Daddy Nini, sometimes, unable to pronounce the rest of their names; it's probably because they keep saying Daddy Taeminnie and Daddy Jonginnie all the time, so she learned how to recognize and say those words, although not perfectly.

"Yea," Jiyeon nods in response to his question. "Daddy bea'."

Taemin hums, pulling her into a hug. "Agreed. Daddy Nini does sleep a lot, like a bear. But since you're Daddy Nini's baby, you should be a bear too, right?"

She looks at him and gives him an expression so judgmental that he wonders where she learned it from.

"No-way," she says, shaking her head seriously. "Me, no bea'. Me, 'ower."

"You're a flower?" he repeats, and she nods. "Not a bear? How come?"

Jiyeon's formerly serious face breaks into a sweet grin as she places her hands on his cheeks, patting them preciously.

"Daddy 'ower."

"Me?" he confirms with a chuckle. Still smiling, Jiyeon nods at him again. "So Daddy Nini is a bear, and I'm a flower?"

"Yea," she responds, then leans up to plant a lopsided kiss on his face. "Daddy, 'wer. Me, 'wer."

Looking at Jiyeon being like this, Taemin thinks he's about to turn into a puddle of goo. He can't even stop himself from making embarrassing cooing noises as he pinches her cheeks and squeezes her tiny figure against his chest.

"You're so cute. Come here, let Daddy give you more kisses."

He pulls her up just enough to land a bunch of pecks all over her face, making her throw her head back and giggle out loud.

"No, Daddy, 'oo mush!!" she laughs, trying to push him away.

Eventually, he stops and grins as he watches her rub her puffy cheeks, grumbling to herself.

"Let's go see Daddy Nini later," he suggests.

"Go?" Jiyeon's face lights up, hands still on her cheeks. "Pway?"

"Yeah—well, he's working, so he can't play with you," he explains. Jiyeon frowns, her eyebrows knitting together. "But you can play with me, and he can play with us after he's done with work. We'll just go pick him up."

"Oh… 'kay," she nods coolly. Then, she looks around the room and stops to point at the table where she put her little bag and her baby princess earlier. "Go… Ca'."

He chuckles. "Yes, I'll put your bag in the car later. We'll have dinner first. Aren't you hungry?"

Jiyeon looks down at her belly and rubs it, pouting. "Yea…"

"Great—so dinner, change, then we'll go pick up Daddy. Okay?"

"'Kay!"

 

-

 

Taemin arrives at Jongin's studio at eight in the evening, with Jiyeon in tow. He had Jiyeon wear her bear-eared hoodie because it might get chilly, even though it's summer. The slightly oversized hood falls over her eyes in a very cute way; people might think he's walking around with a big teddy bear, with how fluffy Jiyeon looks.

"Hi, are the classes still going on?" He walks straight to the reception desk, which is tended by a young woman he's never met. She's probably a new assistant; Jongin tends to hire quite a number of them at this time of the year.

The answer to his question is actually quite obvious from all the music reverberating through the barely sound-proofed walls. He even recognizes the song—it's the one Jongin's been playing a lot recently, ever since he started working on the choreography—but he thought he would ask anyway.

"Yes, but audience registration for tonight is already closed," the assistant says, a friendly yet apologetic smile plastered on her face. "Can I help you with anything else?"

"Ah, that's okay. Jongin's class should be done soon, right?"

Her eyebrows furrow in thought. "Yes, in about fifteen minutes… Do you have an appointment with him? I can—"

All of a sudden, the woman's expression changes. Her frown disappears and her eyes brighten as she catches sight of Jiyeon, whose hood has fallen off because she keeps rubbing her face.

"Ah, isn't she Jiyeonnie?" she asks excitedly. "I've only seen her in pictures—but she's so cute in real life, too!"

Taemin frowns, caught off guard by her sudden enthusiasm, not following the turn of the conversation.

"...Pictures?"

"Yes, the ones Jongin posts on Instagram," she explains as if it's an obvious fact. Taemin didn't even know Jongin posts pictures of Jiyeon online—but then again, he never opens his account, unless Kibum tells him to post something.

"Oh— I'm sorry about that, that was impolite of me. It's just—I'm a really big fan," she apologizes, seeming to catch onto his slight discomfort. "Are you his friend? Or a relative? You can wait in the staff lounge and watch the class from there, it's just right over—"

"Um, I know. Thanks," he cuts her off awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "Is Sehun around, or is he teaching too?"

"He should be in the staff lounge." The new assistant is blinking nervously now, and Taemin suddenly feels bad. Maybe he should have let her finish her sentence, at least.

"That's all I needed to know. Thanks," he smiles at her to ease the tension, and then bends down to offer his hand to Jiyeon. "Okay, Jiyeonnie. Wanna go see Daddy Nini and Uncle Sehunnie?"

Jiyeon looks up at him and nods, but instead of grabbing his hand, she holds both her arms out.

"Daddy, up," she pouts, speaking in an adorable spoiled tone that makes him want to melt. Again.

A fond chuckle escapes him as he lifts her up—and he doesn't see the assistant's eyes go wide after hearing how Jiyeon referred to him, too busy cooing over the cute little bear-cub-slash-flower-wannabe.

"Tired already? Didn't you just wake up from your nap?" he teases, poking her little nose. "I thought you weren't a bear like Daddy?"

Jiyeon doesn't respond with anything other than a cute little hum, choosing to nuzzle her face into his shoulder instead. Laughing, he smoothes out her hair before flipping her hood back over her head, taking her to the familiar route to the staff lounge.

The door is ajar when he arrives in front of it, and from the opening he can see a couple people inside just resting on the couch, or working on their laptops. He knocks as a formality before pushing the door open wider, making everyone in the room shift their attention to him for a moment, before going back to what they were previously doing.

Sehun is standing by the window overlooking the main studio, his surprised expression reflected on the glass. "Oh, Taemin. What are you doing here?"

"Hey," he greets, giving Sehun the best side hug he could muster with a toddler in his arms. "I just thought I'd bring Jiyeonnie here to visit."

"Good call. Jongin's been stressing out over nothing since morning" Sehun says, his head gesturing towards the main studio. "I keep telling him everything will be fine, but he doesn't listen. Now that you're here, though, he'll probably forget about that and focus on you instead."

"Is it about tomorrow's showcase, or…?"

Sehun shrugs. "What else? He's such a perfectionist—I don't know how you managed to dance with him for decades."

That makes him laugh, and the reverberation on his chest interrupts Jiyeon from snoozing off, making her lift her head.

"Jiyeonnie, say hi to Uncle Sehunnie," he says, when Jiyeon looks around at her surroundings in confusion.

"Hello, Jiyeonnie," Sehun beats her to the greeting, squeezing her cheeks and pinching them lightly. "How are you?"

Still drowsy and clearly unhappy, Jiyeon pouts and grabs Sehun's forearms, trying to get the hand off of her.

Taemin chuckles. "You're gonna make her cheeks even chubbier if you do that."

Sehun finally pulls away with a cheshire grin, happy after teasing such a little kid. "I'm sure you'll still think she's cute even if she gets chubbier."

"Of course I will. She's my little girl," he huffs, before he realizes how that came out. He blushes. "Well, technically, she's Jongin's little girl, but… kind of mine too. Ours. You know. "

Sehun shakes his head at him with a judging expression, and the heat in his cheeks just gets warmer and warmer.

"I don't know what's worse, seeing you be all angsty in practice rooms, or seeing you and Jongin be sickeningly sweet all the time, even when you're in different places," Sehun complains, grunting. "I really think I'm gonna be sick, one of these days."

"Stop saying that," he says, embarrassed. "Or else I'll read you a speech about Jongin and our very, very cute family."

Sehun snorts. "You already ramble about Jongin to me before you got together, what's the difference?"

He was about to reply to Sehun when Jiyeon's voice and a tug on his shirt distract him from the conversation. The toddler points at something outside the window.

"Daddy, look!"

Taemin follows her gaze to the front of the studio, where Jongin stands against the mirrors, monitoring the dancers' movements.

"Yeah, that's Daddy over there," he says, shaking Jiyeon's tiny, pointed finger.

She babbles at him, her tone questioning and her words almost incoherent, but somehow Taemin knows what she's trying to say. It's weird, but he figures that maybe it's because they spend a lot of time together.

"We can't go there yet. We have to wait here and watch," he explains. "He will be done soon, I promise. Okay?"

"-kay," Jiyeon echoes, but her gaze stays locked onto Jongin's figure, as if she would lose sight of him if she moved.

Sehun laughs. "Look at you. When did you turn into such a good father?"

Taemin lifts an eyebrow at his friend. "Have you been hanging around Kibum? You sound just like him."

"We've been bonding over babysitting techniques," Sehun replies with a teasing smirk. "You see, we take turns babysitting a certain toddler when her parents need some… quality time."

Sehun even emphasizes his words with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, and Taemin can't stop himself from blushing. "Be quiet."

"Fine— " Sehun grins. "Wouldn't want your husband to fire me, would I?"

Despite saying 'fine', Sehun doesn't stop teasing him. It seems the flush on his cheeks isn't going anywhere anytime soon.

_"Be quiet."_

 

-

 

"Okay, that's a wrap!" Jongin declares at the end of the last run.

After two hours, his class finally ends; all the dancers in the room cheer and break into little groups. The fuzzy noise they make is somewhere between exhausted huffing and enthusiastic talking, but it's to be expected from people who has finished three very tiring sessions back-to back, without much of a break.

Jongin himself is tired too, although probably not as much as the camp participants. He can't describe how glad he is that they're done for the day; it means that there's only a day to go until this whole summer camp ends—and the end of the summer camp means that he can finally spend time with Taemin and Jiyeon, and go on that vacation they've been planning.

Right as he bends over to reach for his water bottle—because he's parched, and badly in need of some water—he hears a familiar high-pitched giggle from somewhere in the room, a clear-sounding laughter that sounds very out of place in the middle of all the indistinct chatter.

In fact, it sounds so out of place that he would have thought he was hallucinating if he hadn't raised his head in time to see his daughter run toward him, her absolutely adorable bear-eared hoodie bouncing as she toddles.

"Daddy!" she screams loudly as their eyes meet, her sprint gaining speed.

"Jiyeon-ah, don't run so fast!"

His mind blanks out a little bit at the sight of Jiyeon and Taemin in the studio. Neither of them are supposed to be here, right now—he thought they would be in Taemin's apartment sleeping or something—and this is a surprise he didn't see coming.

He watches as Jiyeon wobbles unsteadily from running too fast, Taemin following behind her with a worried face. It's amusing to see Taemin so worried over a baby; he grows more and more into his role as a parent every day, and Jongin loves watching the shift. Fatherhood suits Taemin very well, apparently—even though the man himself doesn't think so.

"Daddy!"

Jiyeon's call snaps him out of his daydream. Bending down, he opens his arms to catch the little girl who is finally arriving in front of him, lifting her up into the air. She giggles and cheers as he spins her around, letting her fly for a bit before pulling her into his hold.

"Hello, Jiyeonnie~ Why are you here?" he pokes her nose with his index finger, and she grabs his hand to try pulling it away. "Are you here to visit Daddy?"

"Uh-huh," Jiyeon nods excitedly, hands still wrapped around his. She plays around with it and shakes it, babbling at him. It's pretty late at night for a toddler; he wonders why she can still be so excited.

Soon, Taemin finally catches up. When his lover steps in front of him looking all nice and dry, he suddenly feels self-conscious about his own sweaty state. Not wanting to get Jiyeon dirty, he puts her down on the floor—much to her displeasure.

"Daddy, up," Jiyeon pouts.

Jongin shakes his head, denying her request, and he shakes his head again when she repeats her request after getting rejected.

Jiyeon is a smart girl, though; she knows her options. Turning around to face Taemin instead, she looks up at him with what seems to be her best pair of puppy dog eyes.

"Daddy…" she trails off, pouting. "Up?"

In curiosity, Jongin studies Taemin's face—and he's not surprised when Taemin's face melts into the softest, fondest expression he has ever seen. Taemin is and has always been so weak to puppy eyes. Jiyeon doesn't even need to try; after sending him one of those, he will definitely soften immediately and do whatever she requests.

His guess is proven correct soon enough. With a sigh, Taemin bends down and lifts Jiyeon into his arms. She claps and cheers very happily, now that she's up in the air again.

"Softie," Jongin directs a teasing grin to Taemin's direction as he attempts to wrap an arm around his shoulders and dive in for a kiss—a habit they have grown into since they started dating.

This time, though, he gets rejected, with Taemin swatting his arm away, huffing.

"Dirty," his boyfriend returns pettily, and Jongin pouts, even though he knows Taemin too well to fall for the seemingly annoyed lilt in his voice. He can hear the grin and laughter threatening to break out of Taemin's lips—he shouldn't even bother trying to hide it, frankly.

"So I can't kiss you when I'm all sweaty?"

"Nope," Taemin answers him with a cheeky grin. "Jiyeonnie, don't let him kiss us. He's gonna get us dirty."

Jiyeon nods obediently, and Jongin pouts. "You're gonna regret saying that later."

"Well, then I'll deal with it later, too," Taemin smirks, and Jongin really does make a mental note to make Taemin regret saying what he said later—preferably in his bedroom, with the door locked so little toddlers can't come in to interrupt them.

"Why are you two here?" he asks, after finally taking a swig of his water. "Shouldn't you be at home?"

He grabs his towel and continues to dry himself of all the sweat, feeling Taemin's gaze following him.

"We're here to pick up Daddy Nini, right, Jiyeonnie?"

"Yea!" Jiyeon giggles. "Me 'cup!"

Jongin laughs and pokes the chubby tops of his daughter's cheeks. "Aren't you tired? Huh? It's bedtime, you know."

"No," she says with a proud huff. "'cup Daddy."

"She was tired when we got here, but apparently seeing her daddy made her all excited again," Taemin tells him.

He pokes Jiyeon's cheek again, and this time she reacts, her tiny hands reaching out to poke his cheeks in return. The pokes ended up more like slaps, though, because she doesn't know how to control her strength.

"Ow, ow, ow," he whines, "Jiyeon-ah, that hurts."

Jiyeon throws her head back as she giggles, but the swing of her head made her hoodie fall off, and she scrambles to put it back on. Distraction is distraction; Jongin moves his face slightly away from the little girl's reach so she can't poke-slap him again.

As he straightens up, he sees Taemin's chuckle coming before he hears it.

"Go change your clothes and come home with us," Taemin says fondly, his hand reaching up to fix Jongin's sweaty bangs. "Maybe we'll give you your kisses when you don't smell like sweat."

"You're so annoying," he grumbles, but he starts packing up his stuff anyway. "Why am I even in love with you, huh?"

Taemin laughs and says in a sing-song voice, "Thanks. Just love me more~"

Jiyeon looks at him, babbling after Taemin in a similar tone while grinning. "Tank~ me mo'~"

"Look at this, you're teaching her weird stuff," he groans and pinches Jiyeon's cheek. "Don't copy Daddy Tae when he's being bad."

"Daddy no bad," Jiyeon frowns in disagreement.

Taemin grins. "See? I'm not bad."

"Fine, whatever," he pouts, grabbing his bag, heading to the staff lounge to change his shirt. "Are you coming?"

Taemin looks at him, then looks around the room. Jongin didn't notice, being too preoccupied with Taemin and Jiyeon, but a couple of people have been staring at them with interest, and there's even a few dancers waiting around a couple steps away, looking at Taemin with starry eyes.

This always happens whenever Taemin comes to events at Jongin's studio. He's very recognizable, both as a dancer and as the artistic director of one of the biggest dance companies around, and because he's so busy, he's always so hard to meet. One of the only places he's regularly seen in is at Jongin's studio, so there's always people dying to talk to him, just to introduce themselves or to get some tips on passing the company's auditions. When it comes to that, Jongin doesn't mind, and neither does Taemin—but the thought suddenly makes him realize that they've been bickering in public with an audience watching. His face immediately grows warm, and it doesn't help that he can spot Sehun's knowing smirk from across the room.

"I think I'll wait here," Taemin answers eventually, smiling kindly at the dancers waiting around him. "Come back when you're done."

"Okay, then."

Glancing at all the people watching them with obvious curiosity in their eyes, he gathers up his courage and brushes off his embarrassment, deciding to show off a little.

_If they want to watch, they can watch._

Quickly, he leans down to kiss Taemin's cheek, pulling away before Taemin could catch him. Surprised, Taemin stares at him, his eyes wide, and he grins.

"Talk to them—I'll be back in a bit."

 

-

 

Taemin and Jongin finally found time to go on a vacation together in the middle of August. The dance camp has ended successfully, and Jiyeon's second birthday has passed; they left a few days after, deciding to celebrate her birthday in the city with family and friends instead of during their little getaway.

For the first time in years, both of them take a week off of work, taking time to unwind before things go crazy again in the fall. They rented a small cottage by a beach, complete with a dipping pool in the backyard—the perfect place for them to enjoy the summer, while also having a place to cool off.

Just like every other day this week, today is beach day. Taemin had left the beach for a few minutes, to head to a nearby stall and grab drinks for the three of them. However, when he comes back to the father-daughter pair who were playing by the water, he finds Jiyeon's feet completely buried in sand—even though they were supposed to be making sandcastles.

"Yah, Jongin-ah. Are you trying to bury her?" Taemin laughs. "Where are the castles?"

Jongin looks up at him from where he's squatted on the sand, grinning. "Well, she said the castles need a flower, so we're planting one first."

"Yeah, me 'ower!" Jiyeon nods with enthusiasm, looking up at him and Jongin. "Pweeeeeetty 'ower."

"Oooh, you're a pretty flower, huh?" Jongin coos at the little girl, amusement lacing his tone. "How pretty?"

"Lik' Daddy!"

Taemin was trying to sit on the sand next to the two of them, when Jiyeon suddenly reaches for him. It's safe to say that he was surprised and almost fell on his butt when the toddler grabs his hand to swing it around for emphasis. Jongin's eyes look past Jiyeon's little figure to meet his own, an amused, yet fond, smile forming on his lips.

"Yeah, Daddy Tae is really pretty, isn't he?"

Hearing the blatant compliment leave Jongin's lips make him feel self-conscious, for some reason, even though he's already heard him say it a thousand times by now.

"Aren't you going to water the flower then?" he says instead, to hide his embarrassment. He waves a bottle of water in front of Jiyeon's face. "Jiyeonnie, flowers need to drink, too, right?"

Jiyeon frowns in thought for a split second, before she nods.

"Yeah. 'ower d'ink," she reaches her little arms out, wiggling and shaking it to ask for the water bottle.

Chuckling at her adorable antics, he opens the bottle and helps her drink. She gathers all the water in her mouth before swallowing them, both of her cheeks puffing out into two little round balls, and her eyes scrunching with the effort to keep the water from spilling out.

"She's so cute," Jongin says from her other side, his voice almost turning into a whine. He extends his arms to gather Jiyeon into a hug. "Why are you so cute, hmm? I'm gonna go crazy like this."

Taemin can't stop the laughter that bubbles in his throat from slipping past his lips.

"She's taking after me," he cheekily responds, putting a finger under Jongin's chin to lift it up to face him. "That's why she's so cute."

Jongin lifts a disbelieving eyebrow in response, without pushing his finger off of his chin or letting go of Jiyeon, who is currently trying to struggle out of his hold.

"Did you really just say that?"

"What?" Taemin grins and pats his lover's cheek playfully. "It's true. Didn't you see how she drank her water? It's just like how I usually do it."

"No way, you're not that cute. She's obviously taking after me."

Taemin scoffs. "You literally just told me I was pretty a minute ago."

"Yeah, pretty—not cute. I'm cuter, right, Jiyeonnie?"

For a moment, Jiyeon pauses in her struggle to leave his hold, and gives him a questioning look. "...No?"

"What? You don't agree?" Jongin's grip on Jiyeon loosens as he pouts, and finally, she manages to slip out of his arms. She looks at Jongin with a placating smile, patting the side of his head.

"Is' okay, Daddy," she says, her explanatory tone clear and endearing. "Daddy cu' too."

Jongin's eyes widen in surprise and in conflict after having his own daughter try to pacify him—and Taemin breaks out in laughter again. He laughs so hard that he can't stop even after a few minutes.

"Taemin-ah," Jongin whines. "Stop laughing."

"I'm sorry, it was just— You should have seen your face, it's so funny." he wheezes, glancing at Jongin just in time to see his lips jut out even further.

"I swear I'm gonna kiss you right here in front of all these people if you don't stop making fun of me."

"Really? I dare you."

Jongin's eyebrows knit together at his challenge, but before either of them could do anything else, Jiyeon is tugging their hands, pointing at the sea. At a distance, a family is playing by the waves, taking a dip in the water and splashing each other.

"Daddy," Jiyeon directs her wide eyes at Jongin, then looks back at the family she was pointing at. "Pway?"

"You want to swim now?" Jongin asks. "You haven't even started on your castle."

Jiyeon shakes her head, trying to pull her feet out of the sand they're buried under.

"No, want pway," she fails to move her feet, and pouts, whining. "Daddy, pway!"

Jongin sighs, and glances at him, their eyes meeting. "Okay, go play with Daddy Tae. I'm tired."

"Tired already?" Taemin teases. "You're turning into an old man."

Jongin glares at him. "You're older than me. Be quiet."

"You only admit that I'm older than you at times like this," he chuckles. "You don't even call me hyung."

"Fine, _hyung,_ go play in the water with Jiyeonnie so your little brother here can rest."

While they bicker, Jiyeon stands between them, following the conversation as she looks from side to side. Then she takes both of their hands, and shakes them powerfully.

"Daddy, pwaaayyyy," she whines loudly, bouncing on her knees as she can't run away, her feet still stuck.

"I'll let you out and you can go play with Taeminnie," Jongin says. He starts to undo his work, digging into the sand to help Jiyeon get her little feet out.

Jiyeon pouts, and shakes her head. "No, Daddy pway!"

"We're both going," Taemin decides in the end, exchanging looks with Jongin, who ends up giving in.

"Fine. I'll play too," Jongin sighs, loosening the sand around Jiyeon's feet and pulling her out.

"Yay!" Jiyeon brightens, and runs to the water, dragging him and Jongin with her on each hand. "Pway!"

 

-

 

Later in the evening, Jongin comes out of the shower to find the small living area of the cottage empty.

"Taemin-ah?" He tries calling out, before he notices two figures out in the backyard, sitting by the little plunge pool. He walks over to the back door and out into the yard, approaching Taemin and Jiyeon, who are sitting with their feet dipped into the pool water.

"Oh, you're done showering?" Taemin asks, his head tilted up to look at him. Next to him, Jiyeon is mirroring his actions, looking almost like a doppelganger, and it brings a smile to Jongin's face.

"Yeah," he smiles. "Wanna switch?"

"Later," Taemin smiles back. "I just got comfy here."

Jongin chuckles and gets down to sit with Taemin and Jiyeon, taking his daughter's other side to put her between the two of them.

"It is kinda nice here," He finds Taemin's hand resting on the floor behind Jiyeon's figure and interlinks their fingers.

Taemin glances at him with a smile when he notices, and curls his fingers tighter around his. "When was the last time we traveled together? Three years ago?"

"I think so?" The memories resurface almost immediately; the last time they went somewhere together for an extended period of time was when they were still active dancers, going on their last summer tour with the company. "It was for work, though—not a vacation."

Taemin laughs. "Well, if it's for vacation, then I think we haven't traveled anywhere since college."

"You're right," Jongin laughs with him. They've been so busy in the last ten years, working their butts off to make it in the tough creative industry, spending their free time practicing, practicing, and more practicing. "I'm glad we found some time now, though."

"Let's find some time to go somewhere at least once a year, from now on," Taemin hums, his eyes focused on the way Jiyeon swings her little feet in the water, creating splashes everywhere. "We should take Jiyeonnie all over the world while we still can."

"Agreed," Jongin nods, "Though maybe we should wait until she's a little bigger to take her on long flights, don't you think?"

Taemin shrugs, and redirects the question to the little girl herself. "Jiyeonnie, what do you think? Are you big enough to fly for a long time?"

"F'y?" Jiyeon tilts her head. "F'y… lik' bird?"

"Yeah, like a bird," he answers her question in Taemin's stead, chuckling. "You can ride a huge bird in the sky. Want to go?"

Jiyeon's eyes sparkle as she nods. "Yea, go!"

"Well, that's that, I guess," Taemin grins. "We're going somewhere far, next time."

"I'm fine with that, as long as we get to spend time together," he says, looking into Taemin's eyes. "All three of us."

"Yeah, me too."

Taemin looks at him with an understanding glint in his eyes, and a thought he has been mulling over by himself for the past few weeks resurfaces. He still wants to live with Taemin—permanently—but he hasn't found the courage to ask him, yet.

Now, the timing is here. Taemin's mood is great, the atmosphere is perfect—maybe he should ask him now.

"Taemin-ah," he starts, nervousness climbing up to his throat. "I've been thinking, recently."

"About?" Taemin asks, his tone encouraging.

Just from hearing the sound of his voice, he thinks Taemin already knows what he wants. But somehow, Taemin still manages to sound curious, like he's just sitting there waiting to see what's going to happen—waiting to see if Jongin is _really_ going to ask.

"I want… I want us to move in together. Only if you want to, of course," he blurts out, finally. "I know it's really soon, but… I don't know. What do you think?"

"Sure. Let's do it." Taemin smiles, answering his question easily, without even pausing.

Jongin blinks, a little surprised at how smoothly this conversation is going. "Really? Just like that?"

"Of course," Taemin breaks out into laughter, his eyes turning into small crescents and his cheeks gathering into little balls. He probably finds amusement in how shocked Jongin is, as always. "I thought you were going to ask a lot sooner, honestly."

"I was, but I was scared," he pouts as warmth creeps under his skin, baited by his self-consciousness. Unsurprisingly, Taemin read through him once again, as if he was an open book.

"Scared of what?" Taemin says, looking at him as if he was the silliest person in the world, although his eyes are softened with clear waves of fondness. "Don't you already know what I would say?"

To be honest, he did. He knows Taemin as well as Taemin knows him, and he already knew Taemin would say yes. Taemin would never reject him; especially not when it comes to something that just makes sense like this.

Even so, it was still scary to ask, and the fact that this is all going so well so easily is bothering him.

"It took a lot of courage to ask, you know," he frowns, looking away in embarrassment. "Don't laugh at me."

"I know," Taemin smiles. He untangles their intertwined fingers and reaches up to caress the side of his head, threading fingers into his hair to pull his attention back to him. "You're always so much braver than I am."

"That's not true."

"It is. When it comes to these kinds of things, at least," Taemin chuckles. "I've been thinking about the same thing, but I wasn't brave enough to ask. I don't even know why, since I knew you wanted it, too."

Jongin sighs, leaning his head into Taemin's touch. "We're so stupid."

He should have expected that. They're always so synchronized, in various ways; it's not often that they're not thinking about the same thing at the same time, even though neither of them talks about it to the other.

"Hey, no bad words in front of toddlers," Taemin teases, laughing as he pats his cheek.

He captures Taemin's hand in his and snorts. "You're turning into such a dad. You know that, right?"

Taemin blinks at him, pausing.

"I know," Taemin mutters eventually, a pink flush tinting the soft tops of his cheeks, and suddenly, Jongin gets _such_ an urge to either bite his cheeks or kiss them a hundred times. "I never thought I'd end up like this."

"Me neither," he laughs, turning his head to kiss Taemin's palm. "Who would've thought that my best friend Lee Taemin would be such a good father?"

"Shush."

Taemin shuts him up without saying a rough 'shut up' like he normally would, censoring himself, and it's even more proof of how much he's changed after Jiyeon came into their lives. Laughing, he pulls on Taemin's hand and leans forward, stealing a kiss from his lover's lips. Taemin sighs and kisses back, then one short kiss turns into two, and two kisses turn into three.

Enjoying the lazy, indulgent lull of a quiet evening, with wind blowing through the air and cool water at his feet, he and Taemin got so wrapped up in each other that they almost forgot about Jiyeon, who has been sitting between them, the happy, satisfied smile she has on her face as she looks up at her two parents going unnoticed.

Jongin only remembers that she's still there when suddenly, a pair of tiny hands slip between them, stopping their lips from meeting in another kiss.

"Daddy," Jiyeon pouts, eyebrows scrunched. "Me 'choo!!"

Jiyeon purses her lips, as if waiting for her share of the kisses. Exchanging looks with Taemin, they simultaneously burst into laughter.

"You want a kiss too, huh?" Taemin teases first, tickling her belly and planting kisses on her cheek.

Jongin follows suit with kisses of his own, gathering her into a huge bear hug and squeezing her. He feels Taemin wrap his arms around them, and Jiyeon giggles happily, the tinkling sound piercing through the night air.

His mind flashes back to one day from a couple months back, that one morning before they even started dating, when he felt so much happiness bubble up inside him out of nowhere because he was spending time with Taemin. This feels the same and more, and he's even more sure that he wants to feel like this forever.

"You make me so happy," he breathes, the feeling he never ended up voicing back then finally coming to light. "I'm really so happy right now—I can't even describe it in words, otherwise I'd jump into this pool to cry."

Taemin chuckles.

"You make me happy too, Jongin-ah," Taemin says, his words murmured against his ear, and Jongin can hear the warm smile in his voice. "You and Jiyeon both. This is the happiest I've ever been in my life. Thank you."

Jongin hums. "Let's be happy like this forever."

"Yeah, forever," Taemin breathes out a laugh, and they both pull away, looking at the little girl sitting between them, looking at them with wide eyes. "What do you say, Jiyeonnie? Should we be happy, always? Until you grow up to be a big girl?"

Jiyeon grins, holding both his and Taemin's hands together.

"Yeah!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is done!! I'm so sorry for the delay. If you follow my updates on Twitter you'd probably know that I planned on posting this on Taemin's birthday, but things happened and I ended up posting, what, a week late? Lol.
> 
> Anyway, there you go, the last chapter of Shining Sunshine! I hope it didn't disappoint anyone. I'm not incredibly satisfied with the chapter, but when have I ever been satisfied with anything I write... ;;;; Honestly, I already wrote a short epilogue, too, but I don't know when I'll have time to edit and post that, so for now, this is it for this series. Hopefully, in the future I can find the time to write side stories and other stuff too (*cough* we still need to see Taemin and Jongin's first night together don't we) because I really don't want to say goodbye to my cute little baby Jiyeonnie just yet ;A; I AM SO GOING TO MISS HER, REALLY ;A;
> 
> For the last time, comments are appreciated! As always, I'll try to reply to everything. My [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mlchlwhite) and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/melancholywhite) are also open for anyone who prefers to communicate there ^^ (Tumblr is blocked in my new country, though, so if you've been talking to me there, just know I can't open it anymore ;A;)
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading this, and for all the support you've given! Goodbye for now~ I hope to see you all again if I ever write anything else in the future :3


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